A Century and a Half of Hunger Games
by HoppsHungerfan
Summary: The Hunger Games were an endeavor only a select portion of the population can say they have went through and survived. These are their stories (AU Hunger Games Universe 75th games onward, will include games past hunger games 75 hence the AU) [any author notes will not be edited after release]
1. Lupus Marterus

_**Victor #1:**_

 _ **Name: Lupus Marterus**_

 _ **Age during games: 18**_

 _ **District: 2**_

 _ **Games: 01**_

 _ **Death: Games 065, Finnick Odair**_

"Here you go sir," the clerk at the store said cheerfully. "Three bunches of bananas, five packs of bacon, and a dozen eggs, will that be all?"

"Thank you very much," the customer said politely. He glanced over the bananas, bacon, and eggs, checking for any bruises. "Sorry to bother you, but this egg is leaking," he said as he held up one of the dozen.

"My mistake sir, shall I grab you a new pack?"

"That won't be necessary, Miss. But thank you. I'll make do with it," the customer pulled out a wad of bills estimated to be twenty five dollars. "Keep the change, and there's an autograph if you want it."

The muscular customer grabbed his bag of groceries into his arms and went out of the Capitol issued grocery store into the streets of District 2. He dodged several rowdy children throwing tiny pebbles at each other and pushing each other to the ground in fun. The man couldn't help but chuckle at the innocence these children happened to convey. He passed by one of the few District 2 parks, a large circular feature imitating the radial design of the Capitol, with pedestals around the perimeter. The man diverted his gaze as he passed by his statue, one arm folded across his chest as he wielded a mighty spear akimbo. _Lupus Marterus_ the plaque on the pedestal read.

He walked even faster to get home, avoiding the cheers of several drunk men and women from the whorehouse and the wide-eyed stares from local children on their way home from school. The gated community sat on the hill overlooking the justice building and the train station, ergo it was in the highest mountaintops of District 2. "Victor's village," Lupus said in awe. He still hadn't gotten over the fact that he was a victor, that he and his family could live in some of the best houses in the District. He flashed his ID card to the security guard who opened the gates slowly. Twelve houses circled a regal three tiered fountain before opening up to the sheer cliffs above.

Lupus knew his family was just as devoted to the mine as he was being a citizen of Panem, the first citizen, a title given to the first Victor. It was no shock to him when he entered his house to find the place as meticulously clean as he left it. He hummed a little song as he went in, a little ditty that he learned in the capitol, and went about his business, starting with putting the groceries away. His fridge was always full, but there was somehow room for the bacon. When he realized that the eggs would not fit, he took them out of the carto and placed them in separate locations within the fridge.

A dozen eggs. A dozen fragile eggs scattered in the tight quarters of the fridge. One of them already broken. He breathed in the cool air of the fridge and let the memories over take him once more. A cone of weapons in the center of an elliptical stadium surround by two dozen unknowing tributes. Lupus was the biggest one in the arena, and definitely the crowd favorite to win. The only other tribute rivaling him was Jessup Zental, almost as massive as him but an inch taller, as the betting board during training showed. The countdown began and Lupus looked across to his partner, Minera, a tall dark skinned girl with cropped hair. They wouldn't kill each other, they agreed. It was the only certainty he had when the gong rang.

Not much happened. Awkwardly several tributes moved to the massive pile of weapons in the middle, unsure what to do. Lupus was one of them, as was Jessup, and his District partner. He knew that Jessup and his District partner got along well during training so as they awkwardly grabbed weapons and prodded the tall stack in the middle, Minera began juggling with two knives. Jessup joined along, laughing as the other tributes crept away to talk about other commonalities. It was almost as if the forgot about killing. The opening hour was getting boring and Lupus rested his head against the pile of weapons, sharpening a glaive he got.

Thirty minutes later and blood spilled onto the sandy, rocky, terrain when a knife thrown by the stupid District 5 boy lodged itself in his partner's back. Surprisingly, the girl was still able to walk and took out her partner through the head with an ice pick through the eye. A cannon fired somewhere, jolting the rest of the tributes to move. The District 5 girl fell shortly after, falling on her partner as her cannon fired. Thinking quickly, Lupus grabbed several knives from the cornucopia and threw them to his left, taking out the boy from District 1 and the girl from District 4. Screams resounded through the arena as knives, arrows, blades, swords, _shoes_ flew through the arena. A shriek came from his right, and Minera fell with an axe to her back and Jessup ran away in horror.

Lupus doesn't remember killing Jessup in revenge, getting a knife cut to his knee in response. He doesn't remember killing nine more tributes to get out. He doesn't remember the victory tour, where at least one tribute from each District died at his hands, sans the idiotic District 5. Yet his family stays with him as long as they can, helping him through the rest of the tour. His family is still there when his sister wakes up Lupus from his daydream. "Are you ok?" she asks.

"Y-yeah," he stutters, slamming the refrigerator door. "I got a bit lost and-AH-CHOO!" He sneezed loudly and his sister dries his nose, taking him to the lush queen bed. In the refrigerator, the eggs cracked from the door slam, leaving his poor sister to clean up the mess afterwards.

 **Hey guys! It's something new! I just wanted to test the waters with this and establish my hunger games canon. This is going to be a Victor Project/ Victor Chronicles/ 75 games 75 oneshots type fanfiction if you know what that is, but it'll take place in my Alternate universe of the hunger games. please leave a review and/or favorite.  
Hopping out, hopps**

 _ **Ps. I do not own this material nor do I own any of the following for I am not a brilliant middle aged female writer who knows her universe inside and out**_


	2. Torrent Swell

_**Victor #2:**_

 _ **Name: Torrent Swell**_

 _ **Age during games: 18**_

 _ **District: 4**_

 _ **Games: 02**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games # 66, Adam Hook**_

Lupus Marterus sat in a cushioned chair at one end of a large and elevated dining table. The Justice Building's ballroom was one of the largest rooms in the building. It hosted a massive array of tables draped in the finest, cleanest table cloth from District 8 and was adorned to the brim with pieces of art from the local schools about the second Victor. The combination of it and the food nearly made him throw up. Surrounding him along the dining table was Mayor Nemesis, regal and volatile in black as always, the Capitol liaison in a suit that closely matched obsidian's dark as night color, District 4's escort in his stupid blue electric suit that needed its own plug and turned off the heating, and District 4's Victor himself-Torrent Swell.

Torrent considered himself a normal teenager before the Hunger Games. He had District 4's signature copper hair, a tanned and toned body from almost daily swimming, and possessed the District's signature ocean green eye color. He enjoyed the water more than land most of the time. But his family often kept him moored to the shore, figuratively speaking. His brother, mother, and father enjoyed life as happy fishermen and pearl divers. Though that isn't to day that he was often than not he would sneak down to the tributaries feeding the main river and hop across to meet up with his friends. They'd fish, fight, laugh, hang out in town like normal, the usual.

The fun ended during the dark days, when their usual tributary was no longer running, Torrent's parents died much like most others, and the ocean was restless for days on end. He and his usual group of friends drifted apart. Growing up was a hard mistress. Torrent became one of the hardy fishermen alongside his brother with their own trawler. Life was stable for about two years after their parents died, then it just had to get shaken up with Torrent's reaping. Some of it came back when Torrent left a victor- left as a murderer, left somewhat dead himself.

Torrent didn't ask for this, much like Lupus didn't ask District 4 to hold a party for him during his tour, and it was clear that Torrent was uncomfortable. Lupus could resonate with the boy on that account. "So, Torrent is it?" Lupus asked to break the ice. "How are you enjoying the food?"

"Oh, it's lovely," the copper haired boy said with a jump. "I'd love the recipe but I'm not that much of a cook myself."

"I'll send a care package next time we meet. I need to compliment you for the skill you had in the arena." Lupus' voice carried a trace of coldness as he complimented Torrent about his time in the arena. "I didn't expect to see you make that large jump."

"We have a large river down in District 4," Torrent replied. His sea green eyes glistened in modesty as he recounted tales of how he and his friends would often challenge each other to hop along on the wet rocks across to the other side of the river. "Actually one of the few times I fell in was because a fish jumped up and slapped me in the head."

The dining party roared with laughter at that statement. "I guess that's how you have a knack for dodging," Lupus replied. "I hear the weather's nice in District 4."

"Yeah, I guess it kind of is, unless you step out during a hurricane. There are tales of a beheaded corpse swirling with the water and the wind," Torrent chuckled. Even through the chuckles spread from both his and Lupus' seats, they both remembered Torrent's most iconic kill. The arena was split in four quadrants that year by a ten foot gap that played host to two intersecting tussling ten foot deep 'rivers' with several pointed rocks. The cone of supplies sat on a square platform supported by the corners on all four quadrants and there were bridges on the farthest points connecting the quadrants. Several tributes fell into the river, pushed by other anxious fellows and stained the water red.

One of the bigger contenders that year was Therod, one of two tributes Lupus took under his wing as his duty of mentor. She went down with a kick in the chest and a slash to the throat. She fell in the river, and drowned knocking another girl in the process. Both kills went to Torrent. The body in the hurricane metaphor kind of dug home for Lupus. "I'm sorry guys, but I have to get home, I don't suppose Torrent wouldn't mind a walk around the District with me."

"I'm willing, just not too long. I promised Nemesis a dance together, an hour?"

"Might as well, I don't think District 2 compares to District 4 for you, but it's my personal favorite," Lupus warmly says. Together the two of them stroll out of the ballroom almost like old friends. Lupus points out several of his favorite locations, a watering hole that barely passes as a pond in District 4, a steep mountain path, and the tranquil gardens behind the train station. "I've been spending much of my time here just thinking. It's a scary thing, being alone with your thoughts."

It didn't seem like much to Torrent, but somehow he knew that Lupus was trying to threaten him. "If you have a problem with me, Lupus, can't you just say anything?" he sighs.

Lupus turns to him with an eyebrow raised and a deep scowl. "I've been a Victor for a year longer than you have, I know what happens after. Tell me, do you have nightmares?"

"Yes I do," Torrent says grimly. "The girl from your District, trying to hack at me with a pick. The District 3 boy almost taking my eye out. The District 6 girl, my only obstacle to get home at that point, going straight at my jugular vein."

Lupus laughs, long, hard, and cold. "I won't hold it against you. You killed how ever many you needed to. I don't know what you're doing talking to a man who killed twice as many as you, but I won't blame you."

"And why is that?"

"Because I failed, and you punished me for it," Lupus explains quickly. "I tried to bring one of them home, either Tungsten or Therod. I guess the advice I gave them was too much for their own good. You did kill them in the end."

Torrent tries to object but he remembers the brief brawl with a boy he didn't bother to name. He ended up impaled on a protruding sword. "I did what I needed."

"And I won't blame you for that," Lupus repeats. "I can only hope that your pain isn't as severe as mine. And that we can look past the games as friends."

The first Victor stood up, an inch taller than Torrent's already remarkable six foot frame. "Don't worry, we will be," Torrent replied, holding out his hand. Lupus looked, and shook it. "I look forward to seeing you next year."

"As do I, Torrent Swell."

 **Hi, Hopps here. I don't think this is as good as my last one, but here is the second victor. I hope you enjoyed my take on this and please leave a review**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	3. Leif Vanas

_**Belated thanks to Zulera301 for leaving a review in Lupus' chapter. As a big Fan, thank you**_

 _ **Victor 03:**_

 _ **Name: Leif Vanas**_

 _ **Age During Games: 18**_

 _ **District: 1**_

 _ **Games: 03**_

 _ **Death: Third Quarter Quell**_

No one could argue that the first two Hunger Games had strong tributes, both victors of those games were fighters in their own rights and brought honor to their District aptly. Aside from these victors...not many others did stand out from these would be accurate indeed to say that the next Hunger Games had a much more viable cast of tributes. They came from all walks of life from five Districts, and the Capitol just so wanted to find out who was the best.

The gamemakers relented to the anxiously waiting audience. The introduction of a training evaluation portion of the day with a score from 0-12 that allowed the audience to single out who to bet on, who to laugh at, and who to watch. For the tributes, training was extended from 2 days to three, incorporating time for the gamemakers to properly evaluate the tributes in 24 mandated half hour training sessions. The high scores for this game were handed to the tributes from District 7, District 2, and District 1-collectively earning an average of 6.8 in a game where the highest scoring tribute barely got 8.

As usual the tributes started in a circle surrounding a cone of weapons. The canals which held the rivers were left unfilled and dry, a daunting gap to make for those running away. The eight highest scoring tributes were spread evenly from each other, those being from Districts 7,4,2, and 1, each having two non outstanding tributes between them. The fight field now had steps to the massive stands surrounding the former fight area and an archway which opened to the underground care area. The sixty seconds began and went as usual, though with the playing field massively increased, it was now a viable strategy to run _away_ from the tempting pile of weapons. Approximately seven tributes ran from the bloodbath into the stands with another one running into the care area. This left 16 tributes up to slaughter each other however, and the first kill was made by a one Winona Chase of District 7, who pulled of the shock of killing the boy from District 2, whom everyone expected to follow in Lupus' footsteps.

The second surprise came shortly after when a slip of a girl from District 3 managed to knock down the entire cone of supplies onto Winona and a girl who she considered to be an ally, the girl from District 10. The clatter that arose silenced the gun shots that signaled the deaths of the tributes, and the girl from District 3 was now had a target bigger than the pile of supplies she toppled. An arrow flying through the air landed in the back of her head and sent her falling onto a sword. If the arrow didn't kill her, then the sword surely did.

The first noise made after the collapse was a young man's voice calling out to his allies. "Marian, Phineas, Dodger, let's go!" It belonged to the District 1 male, Leif Vanas. Those he called to, the girl from his district and the boys from Districts Seven and Four, ran to him, Marian managing to take out another viable threat in the process-the girl from District 11. Chaos ensued once more as the alliance threw their ranged weapons, taking out all some other tributes as the melee began.

Together the alliance ran up the stairs connecting to the stands where the mock audience would be. "Who'd you get?" Phineas asked.

"You saw me take out the girl from Three-Quipra, so that's one for me," Leif replied in between heaving breaths. "I think I also got the guy from 12, the one with the scar on his arm."

"I got his partner," Marian chimed in. "I saw the girl from 5 take out the boy from 3 and the boy from 6 take out the boy from 9.

"I think I got the girl from 6," Phineas added. "But not after the she took out the guy from 8."

"My tomahawk got District 5's boy and the girl from 8," Dodger said. "The girl got Lucrecia."

"How?!" Leif exclaimed.

"The girl got a longbow for her and fired up in the air, it fell on Lucrecia," Dodger exclaimed.

"So that's Lucrecia, Severus, District 8, District 9, and District 12 out already, plus the-" Marian's words were interrupted as a knife implanted itself in her back and she fell down several steps. Urgently the boys turned to see the boy from 11's eyes widen and run away.

"After him!" Leif shouted. The chase led them up and down the rows of seats before Phineas' spear imbedded itself through his back and the boy fell as many steps as Marian did. "I only heard one gunshot, Marian's still alive," Leif realized.

Swiftly they ran down the stairs and got to the girl from District 1, a pool of blood coming from her back. Dodger rolled her over and saw that she was still coughing. "Marian, we'll get you down to the care center and fix it up. We killed the dirtbag who did this to you," Dodger said rapidly.

"Leif…" she coughed out. "Leif, I don't think I'll make it. Don't fret about me. Don't forget to feed your cat, and tell my mom I said goodbye."

Her eyes rolled into her head, her chest slowly moving to a standstill, the pool of blood still increasing but Marian stayed still. "She's gone," Leif lamented. One of his best friends. Who comforted him when a bomb took out his parents, whom he consoled when that grease head cheated on her with a twat, who he knew for years, and was now dead. He brushed the hair out of her face and stood up. Suddenly Leif dropped his quiver of arrows and his bow to the floor. He stormed at Dodger in non-thinking rage and pushed him down, pinning and choking him as the boy from 7 was caught of guard, trying to hack at Leif with his ax, but his life ended as Leif lifted his head and slammed it repeatedly against the stone benches. Two gunshots fired, followed by another. "Sorry about that Phineas, you're next though," Leif growled. He didn't notice Phineas trying to leave as he choked Dodger, but with his bow and arrow retrieved from the ground, he shot Phineas just after he cut down the girl from his District. "Nice knowing this alliance helped me for so long."

Leif rested for a while to let the other tributes-by his count there were only four others left and the three gunshots rang out before his final opponent, the girl from District 9 who fled to the care area stumbled into the stands. Her hair was frizzed, torn out in several places, and now the girl from 9 located her target and ran up with her scythe flailing from her belt. It took but one pull of the bow string to take out the girl. The trumpets were interlaced with Capitol cheers. Leif Vanas, whose close friend died close in hand, who choked the life out of Dodger, who killed Phineas, who fired arrows into the girls from 9 and 3, and took out the boy from 12, became the the third Victor. "Well Torrent, I think we have a new friend," Lupus told the first District 4 victor as they waited in a plush velvet room.

"I'd love to get to know him better," Torrent said in response. Together they watched the eighteen year old from District 1 march to the hovercraft amidsts cheers.

 **Hi, hopps here. What do you think? I know his name isn't the traditional idea for District 1, but Leif Erikson was the first person from Europe to make it to America, and Leif is the first victor from District** _ **1.**_ **I think it makes sense. Anyways, leave a review, and tell me what you think  
(UPDATE!) I have changed Leif's death from 031 to the third quarter quell**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	4. Romulus Cobalt

_**Victor #4:**_

 _ **Name: Romulus Cobalt**_

 _ **Age During Games:18**_

 _ **District: 2**_

 _ **Games: 04**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 068, Mallius Frollel**_

Romulus Cobalt believed himself to be the son of the mountains. It was something that his mother ingrained in him since he was younger, before a dirty bomb by those heinous rebels took their house out. Like most children who lost their families to these heinous bombs, he went to the community home, a place of eternal rough and tumble where a piece of bread often results in not less than three fights a day. He wasn't alone by all means, he had a brother, Rydel, and he was only eight when they lost their mother, two years younger than Romulus.

Not to say that they weren't alone in their endeavor. Yes they had a father, and Rydel and Romulus couldn't argue against the fact that Orion didn't try his best to save his children. But his changes were subtle through the two years Romulus and Rydel tried to stay with him. Often times the boys would see him crowded around their mantle piece, staring into his wife's eyes and asking for help before breaking down. Their father often spent more time at work then he did at home. "It's what killed him," the mortician said quietly.

"I-I don't-" Romulus, the older of the two tried to ask.

"The stress of losing his wife and raising you two alone got to him. He was in the mines, fracking out pieces of gravel and stone to be mined, but the fumes got to him, and he hid it as best as he could, but it got the better of him," the mortician replied. "I've scheduled his funeral to be in the next month, orders are backing up but we'll preserve his body as best we can."

The permanent move to the community home came shortly after the burial. The brothers were given bunks side by side each other, though only one of these were occupied one at a time. Endlessly they talked about thier current situation, their future, their present. It annoyed the other orphans to say the least. So much so that Rydel was the frequent victim of grain fights in the auditorium, pelted constantly with pulps of orange juice and rat hair.

The two of them dealt with this for several years, not until a man of strong broad shoulders and grim expression walked up to the community home bulletin board and stapled two flyers. "Difficult exercises every day, rock climbing, sprinting, weight lifting, crossfit. Led by Victor Lupus Marterus. Sign up for a month, year, or six year program," they both read.

To Romulus it seemed like the best idea. He needed an outlet for the constant memories of his parents and the grief he suffered in the community home. "And it's **Lupus!** If anyone can teach us how to be tough it'll be him," he said enthusiastically to his younger brother as he munched on one of the few cookies the community home mistress made. Nervously, they snuck out of the community home at the first crack of dawn and made their way to the gated community on the tallest mountain. "Two of us, six years, for the training program please," the older boy told the strong armed woman as he pushed forward a pile of coins.

"Community home kids?" she asked.

"Yes," they replied in unison.

"We won't need much money from you," she said as she pushed the money back to them. "My brother says we just need fighters, and you two look competent enough."

Of the six years Romulus signed up for, he only used three. While he can't say that he wanted to continue, he will say that the training program proved to be one of the greatest assets he had entering the games, and it would prove to be enough. He was reaped at 18, already as strong and hale as a normal teen would be working the mines, if not moreso. He caught the Capitol with a mysterious arm with his dark black hair and exhausted stormy grey eyes and tall frame, and he wouldn't be the only one to this year. The boy from five with devilishly handsome red hair and the girls both from one and four with a perfect figure and always a grin on their faces.

The gamemakers capitalized on the intrigue held by the ever waiting audience and gave them the interviews, led by one of their own, Perrine Ponicherry. She was timid yes, but no one can deny taht she capitalized on every single bit of potential that the tributes held for them. "So, tell us you big stud, is there anyone special waiting for you at home?" she said with a drawl to her voice as she talked to Romulus.

"I can't say that there's no one waiting at home for me, because there is," he said as his stormy grey eyes grew hard. "My brother, Rydel, he's all that I have at home, we lost our parents because of rebels." The audience sympathized with him audibly, and yes, he was now one of them most likely to win the next day, and one of them with the highest support, from a combination of his score of nine and his rather successful interview.

But the next day had Lupus shouting at him from his screen. "Don't be a fool you dolt!" Even after years of training with him and ten others, Lupus still hadn't shaken off his old derogatory nickname for him, 'Dolt'. Lupus saw Romulus eyeing the cornucopia from his mined pedestal trying to scope out his preffered weapon during training, a pike, and knew that others were eyeing that same thing.

Of course Lupus forgot that Romulus was faster, even faster than he was at the twenty yard sprint, and could manage it several dozen times. He was still beat by the girl from one, but they looked at each other with a sure nod and parted once she got a shield and a large dagger. He grabbed his pike in one hand but was stopped by the girl and boy from District 8, small slips this year, but could work remarkably well with each other. It wasn't any challenge for Romulus however, and he slammed them both in the cornucopia wall and followed up with stabs to their neck.

Lupus breathed in relief as Romulus ran from the cornucopia out of the bloodbath and into the stand. But once again, Lupus was calling Romulus a Dolt as he faced the tributes from one head on. The girl from District 9 laid at his feet even as the two younger District 1 tributes ran up against him while Romulus wielded both his pike and the 9 girl's sickle. It lasted for about five minutes before the pike lodged itself in the boy's chest and the sickle took of the girl's head. "Almost home to you, Rydel," Romulus said as he kicked the girl's head off of his foot.

In the meanwhile, four tributes died because of the boy from Five, who sniped tributes meters high from one of the arena's newest features. A hand powered elevator would carry tributes to and from the arena roof where they were able to get their sponsor supplies from boxes that dangled from the ceiling. Of all tributes, it was the boy from five who ended up with the most support, and it allowed him near constant access to the elevator as his box lit up when a new supply came his way. "Don't be a dolt," Lupus said when it came down to Romulus and the boy from Five. The Five boy fired arrows from his perch, but Romulus dodged most, execpt for two that lodged in his wooden shield. "DON'T BE A DOLT!" Lupus practically screeched as Romulus chased after the boy from District 5, who was making a steadfast getaway on the elevator. The elevator stopped and the boy jumped to search for his sponsor presents, and eventually took to raiding some others for any hint of a weapon.

Meanwhile, Romulus climbed the rickety chain that supported the elevator's rise. Everyone watched with bated breath as the lean, mean, seven time killing machine climbed up 100 meters to the top of the arena where the boy from five was still looking through obliviously in the sponsor boxes. Relief dawned on the boy's face as he found the District 2 box, filled with knives and pikes and etcetera, but it flew off of his face with a gasp as a sickle slit his throat. "Thank you," Lupus said out of breath as Romulus climbed into the hovercraft. "And thank the Captiol," he added.

"Rydel, we'll thank the mountains as we get home," Romulus said as he fell unconscious to the Capitol medicine.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here.  
** **Sorry for a bit without an update, this summer program's been eating at me. Anyways, District 2 gets another victor so soon! I doubt it's what any of you guys expected, but I hope Romulus is to your liking. It's longer than the last victors, but I hope it's satisfactory  
Up next, something unseen in Capitol hunger games so far  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	5. Acacia Quills

_**Victor #05:**_

 _ **Name: Acacia Quills;**_

 _ **Age During Games; 18 years old**_

 _ **District: 7**_

 _ **Hunger Games: 05**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games #70, Annie Cresta**_

 **There were Five things panem's fifth victor would be remembered for through the Hunger Games, before it, and after.**

 _ **She was already strong when she was reaped.**_

Her father was a rebel confidante, but her mother and her father didn't get along through the best of times, and as Panem was currently stuck in the worst of them, they decided to split up. He was shot outside their home with a series of rapid gunshots that destroyed much of the clearing. It was her who dug up the first batch of dirt to lay her father in, despite her mother's objections. Eventually, mother also grew distraught, leaving the girl and her two siblings to wander the coniferous maze that encompassed most of District 7. She got a job to support her sister and brother, encouraging them to do the same, and grew to be one of the more efficient lumberjacks and sapling harvesters. Her sister, four years old, was carrying buckets of maple through the district, and her brother, seventeen at the time, chose to be one of the bigger lumberjacks. For the three years they worked there until her reaping, they grew strong, mighty, and bold.

Of course she had several friends, friends that would be randomly torn apart by the Hunger Games. The boy she was closest to, Dodger, was victim to the third victor. It is why she tells her siblings to not get attached to anyone too closely, her tranquil yet profound voice echoing in their heads as they go about school. And speaking about school, she was one of the best, but her only actual motivation for going there was to talk to the few people she confided in.

"Do you think we could do it?" they'd ask each other. "Steal some wood, run to the forest, and leave?" It was ridiculous, but highly plausible, well, without the peacekeepers around. She planned with them to encourage them to take her and her siblings along for a better life. They tried to escape a week before reaping day and were strung up in the conifer forest.

By the time she was reaped, she had 21 slips of tesserae, not a lot for District 7 standards by any means, but still enough to have her stand on that dull reaping stage as the neon blemish spoke to the crowd. Her district partner was a boy she saw throughout school, a boy who would remain in the classroom after everybody left and aimlessly draw. The life in his eyes was already gone, sunken to unrepairable black holes, but she stood with blue flames and looked at the sea of people sure that she would never see again.

 _ **She's one of the most beautiful tributes for her year**_

Oh yeah she's beautiful, if the stupid bastards around District 7 cat-calling her so damn often wasn't any indication. Her escort, a bubble headed and bubble framed girl named Cassiopeia, cooed over her during the first day. "I don't think you are that bad of an orphan. You've got curves in all the right places and are just too beautiful for this world! I'd kill to get that flowing sandy hair, but I guess you'd do the same."

Then she moved onto her partner, gushing over his brooding outlook and bored deposition even as the reaping replays played on the television. "Oooh!" Cassiopeia would gush every so often as a beautiful young youth was reaped. "Aww," she said as the cutest little 12 year old tried to hide behind his parents as he was called. "I thought you all were beautiful, competition in the Captiol's going to be steep!"

The girl from District 7 remained silent as her newly appointed prep team fitted her for an amazing outfit. "We decided to go simple for the first parade this year, but nonetheless we hope that our work is to your liking," her stylist, a timid girl named Hera said amiably. Hera moved aside and revealed to the girl herself in an intricate dress. Ivy vines revolved around her brown clothed body and she wore a simple bird's nest on her head. "Your district partner is your lumberjack, but he respects you as a beautiful tree, he's like a work of art, I would say."

She smiled warmly, hugging Hera as she beamed. She was exemplary, one of the true standouts of the night, apart from the gorgeous 16-year old from District 4, the sexy vixen from District 1, and the proud and powerful living mountains of District 2. Of course, the night was also filled with the adorable 12 year old from District 5 who huddled next to his partner, the battery to her electric bolt. "Good news! Good news!" Cassiopeia chirped. "Already we have some promises to root for you all!"

The girl could care less, she just wanted to blend in with the forests again, live with her siblings, and lead a full life ahead of her.

 _ **She's the first female victor**_

No one can't say that the odds were in her favor as her pedestal rose into the overgrown wilds of the once familiar arena. Trees of different sizes, types, colors, and dangers hid the tributes from each other even as she raced to the cornucopia. The girl was sure that her partner would make it out, wherever he was, but a muffled explosion elsewhere in the arena caused panic to flood through her veins. " _Who...please tell me that wasn't you, Rutt,"_ she thought. _Rutt, we loved your artistry._ She was still thinking when the gong finally sounded, and she sprinted through the foliage.

Her first opponent was a tiny 13 year old, even smaller than the cute 12 year old boy from District 5. The boy tried to charge at her with a branch, which she dodged by sliding to the side of a sturdy oak tree. On impulse she hit the tree and fell down an axe. _I guess that's our game this year, the weapons we have in the trees,_ she mused to herself. The boy, which she now recognized as from District 9, barely had time to turn around and run before the axe split his head. The cannon shook the ground under her, and she picked up her weapon and continued on the same path. Several more cannons rang, and by the end of three hours seven souls were gone, taken up in the air by the hovercraft.

The girl got her shirt caught on a particularly spiny tree and tore it off as she ran. It seemed as though the arena floor was expanded, and the greenery extended to the steep stands, and it was damn near impossible to throw a weapon without losing it to the cluttered foliage. There was food of course, in the cornucopia, but getting there proved to be a daunting challenge in the cluttered forest. The District 7 girl saw her partner as she ran, cradling his leg and clutching his stomach as he collapsed. There was no use in allying with him, he would be dead within an hour, and it would be better this way.

Finally the girl saw it, the gleaming cornucopia slightly dulled by sword marks and blood stains, but it was pretty bright as she made her way to it, picking up small packs of useless foodstuff and the very important medical supplies. Three cannons rang out in quick succession, jolting the girl to move. Picking a random direction to run, she ran quickly, and was stabbed in the back of her legs for her effort. It could have killed her had she tripped, but years of the streets allowed her to recover quickly, and she turned to face her assailant, ignoring the blood dripping from the back of her calf. It was one of the other standouts that night, the girl from four, who giggled crazily as she moved forward with more knives in her hand. "I killed Rutt...that simpering oaf of a boy didn't stand a chance and..you're next," she cackled.

Fear does things to people, and luckily for the District 4 girl, she received a quick and clean beheading for her intimidating efforts. The cannon rang as the future victor sat and applied bandages to her wound. It didn't take long before she hit another tree and received fast healing medicine that fell into her hands. Hastily she applied it to her wound and took off, saying a short goodbye to Tissa, who tried to kill her as her hovercraft took her up beyond the forest line and to the beyond. The future victor would go on to kill four more people, the girl from eight, the boy from 1, the girl from 10 and the boy from 4 in the span of five more hours, eventually winning as the boy from 2 finally succumbed to his wounds. Through Panem, the oppressed and the weary looked on as 18 year old Acacia Quills nursed her chest wound when the trumpets sounded after 12 grueling hours.

 _ **She's a District Hero**_

At least that's what people at school tell her. Thanks to her, there's a deal that will bring trains full of amazing food, luxuries only tasted by capitol minds prior, little trinkets of food, and joy every month for a year. It would last even past the victory tour and would remain in use until the next reapings. During this time Acacia found herself a boy, he was the only thing keeping her grounded as they went from party to party in her honor, him wisely taking a vow of abstinence as he went to parties.

"Glad to see you haven't lost that curvaceous figure the Capitol loves you for!" Cassiopeia trilled when she came to pick her up for the victory tour. "First we'll be stopping by District 12, then it'll go in decreasing order as we make our way to only the best, the Capitol. It'll also be a great opportunity to actually have civil conversation with our last four victors."

'Hero' as she was described back home, wasn't universal. For the Districts where she didn't have to talk to the family of those she butchered, the population sat weary as she recounted their time in the arena and their trials. District 10 had eyes full of hate and murder for killing their sweetheart, the cherub faced girl who was her second to last kill. District 9 had a woman who actually slapped her for killing one of her prized students. District 8 loathed her for killing the mayor's daughter, who spread joy around town by scattering coins in the streets. She didn't think it would get any better as she made it to District 4, where she killed both tributes from the District.

But they were respectful, and kind, though mournful. As she gave a speech about self sacrifice and courage, several hecklers began their harassment before Torrent Swell stood behind her and and allowed her to continue. The party they held for her was beautiful, on a cliffside cove that opened to the clearest water she ever saw. Torrent proved to be her best friend through the years, earning little jokes about the Capitol that the two victors were a bit more than friends, but Torrent explained that thanks to her the normal people of town wouldn't have to starve. The promise of parcel day extended to all districts with a victor, so Districts 1, 2, and Four all received luxurious meals for a year.

 _ **She sold the victors**_

It's when Torrent is thanking her for her promise that she begins to cry. She cries for the deal she made with President Hail, that if a victor is desirable, then they are able to plunder them if they wish, all this for parcel day. "He threatened to kill my family! I didn't know what to do! I'm sorry!" she hysterically wept.

Torrent let her cry on his shoulders and cradled her softly. "You too! And District One! And Romulus! I can't live with myself!" Acacia cried to one of few people who treated her kindly these past few days. "Don't hate me...please…"

Torrent took a sharp breath and spoke. "We're victors, we don't hold each other accountable to our actions in the arena, nor outside. I know how you feel, and I won't blame you."

"I don't-"

"But I won't blame you. Lupus will understand, and he'll knock sense into Romulus."

"But I don't-"

"And I won't. The ends justify the means, thank you Acacia."

Silently she wept as the sun set and the torches were lit, and prepared to visit District 3, District 2, District 1, and the Capitol, bound to be the worst day of her life, but at least she had the respect of the Victors.

 **Hi guys, Hopps here, and this chapter is the longest I've written of this project so far. Sorry to Lupus fans, but he ends up with the shortest chapter yet. Anyways, thoughts on Acacia, first female victor? Does she seem strong? Aloof? Brave? Stupid? A sue? let me know, and I'll be sure to listen**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	6. Legume Nitrate

_**Victor #6:**_

 _ **Name: Legume Nitrate**_

 _ **Age during games: 18**_

 _ **District: 11**_

 _ **Games: 06**_

 _ **Death: Games 076, Jackie Tymphus**_

The sunlight fades through my bedroom unevenly and slowly creeps onto my face. I get up, stretch, and for a moment I'm with my whole family in the room, as we crowd around the biggest bed and have our breakfast of grains, fruit, and a slice of meat, but I finish stretching then I remember that I'm no longer in our old house, no the hunger games managed to even change that, not that I'm complaining. "Clovis," I ask in a hushed whisper. "Clovis, you up?"

My sister comes into my room and leans on the doorway. "Legume, you okay? You're up this early?"

"Yeah, I heading down to the orchard to walk and grab a bite, tell mom and dad-" I hesitate as I tell her to tell my parents, knowing that they've been dead for several months now. "Just tell Isaac that I'll be walking about and I'll help him with his plants soon."

Clovis nods and leaves me be. I take off my sleepwear, a cotton button up shirt with a fire design and matching pants to put on light Cerulean pants and a green shirt. I stick out in our District, but I can afford it, and life as a victor is pretty nice, most of the time. It meant that the district got food every month for a year, and I'd be able to spend actual money, more than I could count, anyway I want, so long as I don't step over the line. Though walking through town just at the crack of dawn is surreal at its calmest. "Hi," I warmly say to a couple walking to the domes. They wave back only half-heartedly, but the light in their eyes I'm sure are because of them thanking me. Soon the District will be abuzz with more meagering life, grabbing whatever fruits they need from the domes to be sent to the capitol.

I don't like the domes, they're a purge of our fruit, they accelerate life to its fullest, often inbreeding and inbreeding, and plucking just before they get ripe. It's why I prefer the sweet scent of natural orchards, ones with big sprawling trees and creeks running through and wildlife nipping at your heels. I spend most of my time here ever since my games and let my mind wander near constantly. I laugh softly as a pair of butterflies fall onto a red rose before leaving in a staggered fight pattern. "They're drunk," I whisper. The grass that I often stare into is tall, long, and teeming with life.

 _The long fields dotted the arena floor that day, movement would be terribly hindered._ I think. I shake my head slightly before observing a pair of rabbits going at each other quickly, and they're enjoying, definitely.

 _Hares, snakes, chasing each other through the fields, and one tracker jacker nest chasing us all. Tina fell to the tracker jackers as we ran_ I remember as a bee flies onto my palm. I shake it off of me and run deeper into the orchard, stopping under an apple tree. I slap the trunk hard and some apples fall down, missing me.

" _Look out!" Aloysius, the boy from District 5 who decided to ally with me and Tina for the moment, said as he pushed me back. A knife fell on his back, followed by his head, then back of the knees, and then his foot._

" _Let's go Tina!" I shout to her._

I shake my head again, picking up an apple as I stand up. Maybe Clovis could make some decent apple juice out of this. I run out of the orchard, vowing not to return until the end of the week. I stumble upon our house in Victor's village and grip the doorknob tightly, pausing because **I don't hear anything.**

" _Let me be among the very first to congratulate you for your victory up close, Mr. Nitrate," the stern man sitting in the chair tells me._

" _Thank you Mister President," I reply in a voice half as loud as his._

" _Have a seat, we have several matters of business to get to," he motions in front of the simple green armchair in front of him as he motions me forward. "You know, you were one of the favorites to win," he says impressed._

" _Was I?" I ask bewildered._

" _Oh yes, yes you were. Something was there about your rugged good looks and all out personable personality. If I recall correctly, you were the highest ranking tribute from a District without a victor. I suppose your 7 in training was pretty impressive too."_

" _Wow. Thank you sir," I reply._

" _In fact, as we speak, your loyal fanbase is sitting out of the office right now," President Hail turns his computer screen to me and I see a mass of people holding out District 11 signs and cheering 'District 11' over and over. "Now, there is this matter in which we have to discuss which of them will have the lucky opportunity, oh, how to say in simple terms, grab your dick and fuck you with a smile."_

" _Come again?"_

" _Oh, you understand that this is but the mere cost of being victor," he replies with reptilian eyes. "You had a lot of victors during your games, correct? I believe all five tributes you ended up killing had help from at least one of your sponsors down there. Ah-" he chides when I open my mouth to interrupt. "Look here, I have all four other members of your immediate family here, I'll ask you, will you have sex with your sponsors?"_

" _NO!" I exclaim wide-eyed._

" _Ah, there's the punishment then," Hail says as he hits a button. Soon, I see my father, strong, and loving, dead with a bullet in between his eyes. Mom and Isaac and Clovis run to him in haste, trying to get him to wake up and crying over his body. "So, will you have sex with your sponsors?"_

" _N-N-no!" I stutter. He hits the button one more time, a gunshot takes out the back of my mother's neck, and coats my siblings in blood. "STOP! PLEASE!" I beg as I see my siblings cry._

" _I take it you will have sex with your sponsors?"_

 _I breathe, looking at the screen , then my hands, then the button his hand hovers over. "Yes!" I shout_

"YES!" I shout. By this point, I'm crying on my porch, and only Isaac is there to lift me up and take me in the house with her. I confess to him about the deed I have to do, and I can't say the look on his face is ever the same, but he thanks me, and realizes the truth. We turn to Clovis and explain over a freshly squeezed pitcher of apple juice. "I'm sorry, but I didn't know, I was selfish," I weep.

 **Hey guys, hopps here, shorter than last, but another victor, and District 11's very first! can we have a review for him, and the trauma he suffered? Jk, I'm not that cruel, but that's what happens when you don't play by the Capitol's rules. Up next, yet another first in this hunger games.  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	7. Leopold Mustang

_**Victor #7:**_

 _ **Name: Leopold Mustang**_

 _ **Age during games: 16**_

 _ **District: 1**_

 _ **Games: 07**_

 _ **Death: Games 074, Katniss Everdeen & Peeta Mellark**_

"Leopold come on, I can't be left waiting forever," I whine.

"Wolfgang, you know very well that you can get out of bed on your own," he replies on the other side of our small house. "Wolf, come on, I can't do everything for you, I don't suppose you need me to help you get down to the reaping either."

"Actually, yeah, I need help, we live on a hill, and I don't think I can stop properly, I promise, this is my last reaping so you don't need to pamper me on days like these anymore, the doctor said it'll heal by this time next year."

He sighs, "Okay, let's just finish breakfast first, deadbeat uncle Johann's only good for putting food on the table, and he took his kids down already." We finish our meager meal of tesserae oatmeal and days old apple juice before I let Leopold dress up. I roll over on my bed to pick up a fallen photo, one of our entire family before Mom and Dad's...disappearance. I was Leopold's age back then in this photo, and already the tallest in our family by far, but 14 year old Leopold at the time was already broad and strong, swooned over many girls, of course not like that I didn't have girls throwing themselves at me.

"Wolfgang, I'm done," he says. "Come on, let's get you in what you want," he hoists me over his strong body and gets me sitting on our reclining chair. He sifts through a pair of socks and shoes while I grab my favorite green polo and dark blue jeans for the reaping today.

"Ok, I got it, just help me get out of this sleepwear, then we can go," I announce.

"If that's what you want," he says in resignation.

Soon he and I are in our reaping sections, carefully observing our escort, a perky old man going by Iason, picking out the girl's name. "Ah, yes, can we in fact have our female tribute be young Jodeine Baccarats?" A girl steps out of the fifteen year olds, holding her friend's hands tightly and weeping. I can see our sole victor, Lief Mavrick silently sigh in disappointment, the girl is rather young, as of late, no victor has been younger than 18. "Alright, now that that's out of the way, may we also have Wolfgang Mustang joining Ms. Baccarats on stage?"

I gasp in disbelief, looking around distraught and desparate. I catch my flying breath in my hands and take it in, balancing myself on my crutches before walking on the tarmac to the main stage. As I pass by the 16-year old section, Leopold runs out and shouts. "Take me instead!"

"Leo, no!" I shout in objection, trying to push him behind me.

"Ah, do you wish to volunteer for this young lad?" Iason asks.

"If that means going in the games and saving my brother, then yes," Leo cooly replies.

"Leo, I can't let you do this!" I say, trying to push him behind me again.

"Wolf, I can do this, you'll be safe," he says as he holds me up. "Mom would kill me if I let you in those games like that."

"Leo," I start to argue before being pulled back by a squad of peacekeepers. "LET ME SAY GOODBYE!"

"Excellent, we have here our very first volunteer for the hunger games. District 1, here we have it, your first volunteer and your two tributes for the Hunger Games, may the odds be ever in their favor!" I applaud as loud as the others to mask my heavy breaths. Jodeine and Leo are sent into the Justice behind them and the stage clears out.

"Leopold-" I say just as my sight goes black.

I don't know when I wake up, but I'm in my bed, and someone, a girl is doing the dishes and washing my clothes. "Who are you?" I ask in confusion. "Where's Leopold? How long was I out?"

"First question gets first answer," the girl says. "Aurora Baccarats, nice to meet you, Wolfgang Mustang." I shake her extended hand and let her continue. "Second, Leopold volunteered for you at the reaping, I'm his classmate at school. Thirdly, you were out for five days, you fell off of your crutches and sprained several of your nerves, doc says you're down for bed rest for another week. They just showed the training scores for our siblings, we actually have a chance to see them home."

"I'm sorry you had to deal with this, where's uncle Johann?" I ask.

"Don't worry, he's ok with me watching you, and the training scores our siblings got were nice."

"Training scores?"

"Yeah, the numbers they assign to tributes after a day of training to determine their sponsor gifts? Leopold got a 9, one of the highest, up with the tributes from District 2 and 4. Jodeine got an 8, I just hope that your brother has enough sense not to kill his partner, I've seen him get in fights at school often, may the odds be ever in their favor I suppose," she says, drinking some tea.

"Hey, Aurora was it?" I ask. She pours me my own cup and we sit in several moments of silence, sipping away "Why didn't you volunteer?"

I can feel the temperature in the small house cooling significantly even as we sip our tea. "The Hunger Games won't allow cowards to survive, and Jodeine is already brave as is. And I'm not just looking out for her, food's on the table for tomorrow, I'll see you reaping day," she says before she leaves, slamming the door behind her.

The District square is lined with flowers and green streamers and screens that depict the action the day the games begin. I wheel my way over to Aurora, who stands tall with her two brothers and we stare ahead at the screen, waiting for the fateful countdown at 9 o'clock sharp, capitol time. The screen flickers, showing Ponicherry and the secondary gamemaker in charge talking about the tributes, pulling up their profiles as they move around the circle of tributes. "Ah, District 1, rather wild spitfires this year, wouldn't you say? They're here and here," Ponicherry says as a simple map highlights their locations and the camera shows Jody and Leo. "District 2, strong as ever, let's see if a third victor is in their mindset," the map does the same as Ponicherry says, and the secondary gamemaker moves the camera to show two strong youths preparing to run. It lights up again for District 3, 4-where the tributes are determined and set on each other-, 5, 6, 7-and the girl is tall, glassy eyed and looking for her partner, who stands on the other side of the pile of weapons-, 8, 9, 10, 11- where the boy and girl are both quaking in their feet-, and finally 12, who I see throwing up in the five seconds before the gong rings.

It rings and most of the tributes make the rush to the pile, the boys from Districts 6 and 8 are the first down, taken by the same sword wielded by the girl from District 2. District 3 and District 5 lose their girls quickly, sniped by Jodeine's arrows. "She killed them," Aurora says blankly. We watch Jody dodge the boy from four's attack and run out into the stand.

"Leo, where are you?" I nervously mutter. As if on cue, the screen shows him locked in a tight melee between the boy District 10, where he gets the advantage and slits his throat and stomach quickly. I breathe a sigh of relief as he calls to Jody and chases after her, nonchalantly taking out the girl from 7 with a stab to the neck, and throwing a knife into the gut of the boy from District 9. "Please," I plead. The boy from District 7, just his height and stature follows him in a fury, but falls into a pile of spikes at the bottom.

"DISTRICT 7 OUT OF THE RUNNING THIS SOON!" Ponicherry shrieks. She pulls up a video of the only girl victor, Acacia slamming her head on her controls and sobbing wildly, then cutting soon to District 7 where a family weeps in sustained grief and shouts to the skies. "AND THERE GOES DISTRICT 6!" More and more districts fall, Districts 6,7,8, and 9 losing all of their tributes so soon and 3,5, 10, down to just one tribute only. 11 dead in the first half hour.

"They're still alive," Aurora says as she puts her hand on my wheelchair. I really want to watch the games from my bed, just see them after the replays and all that, just see Leo when he gets home. The kill count displayed next to the carnage says that Leopold has the most kills at three, followed by the girl from 2 and Jodeine, both with 2. The tributes from District 4 each got a kill alongside the boy from District 2, and the boy from District 7 is marked as negligible.

"I know," I reply as I hold her hand behind me. Soon we see the tributes from 2 and 4 enter a melee, which ends with the boy from 2 having his brains busted out of his skull by his district partner, his partner slicing off the 4 girl's leg, and the boy from 4 finishing the girl from 2. Several hours later, we watch the boy from District 3 hold his own against the boy from District 4 and the girl from District 11 as they wade in knee deep water. The girl from District 11 goes down in the murky water followed soon by the boy from District 3. The camera lingers on their bodies before it shows Jody and Leo, about an hour later talking about their opposition, three on two, the tributes from twelve and the boy from five. Leo says something, I don't catch it, and Jody replies, which I don't catch either, before they rush the three tributes, each running a sword through the boy from 12.

"WHOA!" Ponicherry exclaims. "Let's see that again!" I turn away when they replay the poor boy split nearly in two as Jody's sword enters his upper back and Leo's goes in the lower back. It's hard to determine who the kill goes to, so they replay it, and decide that it goes to Leo, whose tally increases to four. Aurora taps my shoulder to bring me back to the action, to see the two of them fighting bravely against the 18 year old girl from 12 and the 17 year old from 5.

Jody manages to get several cuts on the boy from five and he's bleeding severely. "JODY YOU GOT THIS!" Aurora cheers. "JODY!" she shouts as she manage to sink her blade into his skull. Aurora's cheering for Jody, but it turns into screams when the girl from 12 swings her scythe into Jody's lower back. Leo follows quickly, plunging his blade into her lung and rushes to Jody's side.

"Jodeine," he chokes out. "Jody, come on, pull through, it's just a scratch, remember?"

Jody chuckles weakly and smiles. "Go, win, I'm not much use to you," she says.

"Jody...no…" Aurora says. She kneels on the floor and begins to weep.

"Please, do it, show them that 18 year olds aren't that tough, you got this Leo," she says. She closes her eyes and goes out with a smile just as the cannon rings. Before I know it Aurora is hugging me softly, and her two brothers are clenching her legs tightly, and the cameras are now trained on us. I allow myself a tear that slowly falls.

"Aww," Ponicherry sniffles. "That was so sad, tell me, my makeup isn't running," she callously asks the secondary gamemaker. He shakes his head no and Ponicherry clears herself up. "So, final four everybody, six hours in, and the boy from District 4 is a heap of trouble himself, let's see."

The camera turns away to show the boy from District 4, resting his wounds and confronted by the boy from 11 and the girl from 10. "Aurora," I say quietly. "Aurora, come on, your brothers need you," I say as I pat her back.

"She's gone…" she stutters. "Jodeine…"

"Aurora, you can't help it. Jody would want you to keep going, come on, lighten up, your brothers want to talk," I gently whisper. I can hear her sobs becoming quieter but I continue to talk. "She's in a better place, she's not going to want to see you like this."

Aurora looks up at me, her eyes blood red and still leaking some tears. "Wolf, I don't know if you know loss, but-" she hesitates. "I'm sorry, I just need more time to cool of, can I stay by you?"

"Sure," I say. Aimlessly I watch as the boy from 4's corpse is dragged underground, and the tributes from 10 and 11 talk by the fire.

"I can't do this, I'm sorry Benneka, but it has to be now," the boy says as he stands up with a dagger in hand.

"I knew it would be down to this, Drex, sorry, but District 11 won't have another victor soon," the girl says as she picks up her own club. They bring it down, against, and against each other repeatedly, until the boy seemingly gets the upper hand. He's taunting her, slashing his dagger in various places and smirking up close. He moves his hand, and it's his first and last mistake. The girl, Benneka, grabs a heap of hot coals and throws them in his eyes, and she follows with her club, smashing it thrice on his head. The cannon sounds about an hour later, and the girl moves to find Leo.

"It's just her and Leo," I declare. My mouth is agape as he finds her, nursing her wounds and clutching her club in paranoia.

"You," he says. The girl turns in a jolt. "I'm sorry to kill you," he coldly says. "You're not much older than I, and I think we could have been friends, but at least a 16 year old's going to win." I turn as he fires his arrow, caught in the club. She rushes forward and he stabs her with a dike. "Sorry, you seemed very nice, but I have a brother to get home to." I'm staring at the screen with my mouth opened and observing my stupid face as Leopold Mustang, 16 years old, my brother, and the first volunteer, saunters his way to the hovercraft ladder.

"You did it," I say. "You're coming home, come on Aurora, you can spend the night at my place if you want, I think we have a sibling to meet."

 **Hey Guys, hopps here. So District 1 gets its second victor, who's the first non-18 year old to win and the first volunteer to win. Who knew? well I did but that's beside the point. And this isn't the last you'll see of Leopold, nor the last you'll see of Wolfgang. I hope you enjoyed the sibling perspective for this games, and leave a review for your opinion, I'd really like to know, and whoever Bikaran is, thank you for your reviews. I'm sorry I didn't post them, I'm still a new user and I just found out how to add guest reviews, sorry, but I hope you enjoyed  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	8. Gerrian Tomion

_**Victor #8:**_

 _ **Name: Gerrian Tomion**_

 _ **Age during games: 18**_

 _ **District: 9**_

 _ **Games: 08**_

 _ **Death: Games 071, Dash**_

The five tributes killed by the eight victor all had a story to tell, now they are lost to time.

 **The boy from District 6 was 17 years old and already a father**

"Jalopy Orrix!" the name reads through the polished District square. The boy looks around in shock, surely there's a mistake, and that some other Jalopy was called in his place. But when the peacekeepers come to grab him, he realizes that it's the end. In the goodbye room, his fiance, two years older than he is and holding his daughter, cries with him as he promises to try to make it home.

For his interview, his daughter is all he talks about. The girl, Shannon, just said her first five words, dada, mama, games, hail, and ponycherri. He gets a good amount of sponsors compared to what District 6 usually gets, and by the time he escapes the main arena into the surrounding village, he's got a weapon in hand and a kill for the count. He spots the boy from District 9 scavenging the grain in one of the gardens. The boy tries to sneak up on him, but he's too loud, and by the time the boy makes it to him, the opponent is ready. He's pushed to the ground, and looks up with pleading eyes as the rapier slashes through the throat. "At least Shannon didn't have to watch," he mourns. He's dead 3 hours, 25 minutes, and 36 seconds in the games. His daughter never gets reaped, but his brother does.

 **The girl from District 8 is a community home guardian**

Oh yes, she wanders the streets pickpocketing the fat wallets from the owners, but it's all for her community siblings, as she calls them. She buys them pastries often, once a week, and gives them a dollar a week to save for themselves. Maxine Villanueva knows how to do it, and she becomes fast at it. By the time she's reaped at 16, she's teaching a 14 year old her ways, and she's almost as good as her. It's her speed that gets her through the bloodbath, and one of the 9 who spilled out into town. She survives the fallen tributes display, and as she sorts through the bag she collected, she notices a fire off in the distance.

Hesitantly she crept up to it, much like she did against the mayor's secretary and store managers in the capitol licensed square. It's the man from 9, so much bigger than her, but nursing a leg wound, so injured and helpless. She sorts through her pack again, and pulls out a single morning star. If she makes her mark, she can get home, if she doesn't, she's fast for a reason. Maxine fires the star against the slumped figure. It misses. The figure picks it up as she backs away. This time, it doesn't. It's six hours, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds after the 6 boy's death.

 **The girl from 4 was regarded as a hero**

Already at 15, she's an expert lifeguard, warning the folks on the sea at first alert for any fins on the horizons or unexpected swells in the tide. Artesia Howitz has saved three drowning children with her expert application of CPR and is one of the most prominent teachers down at the youth program.

Regardless, she's reaped, and struggling to find some food in the desolate houses surrounding the town. She slams the door to one shut, big mistake. Tributes flock to the noise, accidentally causing a three person melee on the streets. She hides in one of the bigger houses, two stories tall and four rooms on each floor. She rests on the bed, daydreaming. Footsteps snap her out of it. The man from District 9 snaps her out of it by stepping in the same room as her. She grabs her only weapon, a clunky sword that somehow managed to kill the boy from 2. He parries it effortlessly with his scythe, obtained from several devoted sponsors, and swings at her stomach. Her guts fall out 38 hours, 12 minutes, and 6 seconds in the games.

 **The boy from 1 believes himself to be the next Leopold**

He's 16, same age as Leo was when he went into the games, a year after Leo wins and he went to him asking to be trained. Troy Braxion is the best mace user of this hunger games, and used it to kill four tributes. He's about to kill a fifth, the girl from District 9, when the girl's partner, the only _fucking other person_ in the arena at this point finds him. Braxion talks to the field hand, keeping him at bay with his maces at the girl's neck and lower back. He tells him to drop his weapons, and he does so. Brax does the same, challenging the much bigger hand in a wrestling match. He's pinned down three minutes in, and as a last resort, throws a mini mace kept behind his back at the field hand's head. It misses the initial target but hits the girl square in the stomach. She crumples like a doll, holding her stomach in agony. Her partner hears this, and he snaps Brax' neck. Brax dies 50 hours, 13 minutes, and one second into the hunger games.

 **The girl from District 9 is the victor's cousin**

Not yet at least, but she knows it's coming. Brivette Tourmal is 15 years old, related to Gerrian Tomion by her father, who is his father's brother. "N-n-n-no," Gerrian stutters. He carries her limp frame in his hands, takes her to the only reliable source of water in the arena, the river. "Bri-Bri come on, stay alive," he hysterically says, looking in all his packs for something. Not one of the tributes he killed packed more than one bandage and more than five inches of thread. "Stupid," Gerry calls himself.

"Gerry," Bri coughs.

"Bri, save your breath, you're going to be out of here soon," he says adamantly.

"Gerry, we both know what's coming. Gerry, I can't live back home if they knew that I gave up your life for mine, a lost cause," she says with great difficulty.

"Bri, no!" he shouts.

"Gerry, please, give up. I know that you've got people at home waiting for you-"

"BUT YOU DO TOO!"

"Who? Uncle Ralph, cousin Yosephine? Dad told me to make the sacrifice for you, as something of an early present," she jokes, smiling all the way.

"Bri! Just stop, please, I'm your older cousin, I need to protect you," Gerry cries.

"Gerry, I killed a 12 year old, all four of them, and everytime I did, I just saw cousin Yosephine. Gerry, come on, let's be real," she explains.

"But-"

"Gerry, please, let me protect you this one time, cousin," Bri interrupts. "Just, lay me down on the river bed, I've always wanted to die in something so beautiful."

"B-Bri," he cries. Tears fall onto his cousin's face as he looks over her. "Bri, please. Brivette."

"Please, for me?" she asks solemnly.

Gerry breaths, looking around at the high noon sun, and carries her over. "Right here?" he asks when he stops in a spot close to the idyllic altar and well.

"Yes," she smiles. "I know you're getting tired, come on, the water just looks so cool, I think I'll go here." She smiles one last smile, and closes her eyes. Her breathing slows just as Gerry gives her a kiss on the forehead. Gerry gently dips her body in at 58 hours, 59 minutes, and 45 seconds. He becomes a victor at exactly 59 hours.

 **Hey guys, hopps here.  
District 9 gets its first victor, and the first family is sent into the games. Just so you know, the hunger games start at exactly 9:00 in the morning, Capitol standards, and Gerry spends a little under 2 and a half days in the arena. He holds the current record, but I'll say straight up, it won't last long. And this is the second to last hunger games taking place in the same arena, my oh my how the time flies! Anyways, thoughts on Gerrian? thoughts on those he killed? Like the format? Hate my guts? leave a review and I'll try to reply  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	9. Spindelly Dicer

Victor #9:

Name: Spindelly Dicer

Age during games: 15

District: 8

Games: 09

Death: Games 061, Cashmere

If there was anything keeping Spindelly Dicer from going insane after her games, it was her art. Previously she was a community home guardian, taking the title from her supposed sister, who died tenth or so in the games last year. She looks over her pallet uneasy, and soon dips her fingers in it and begins to draw.

It's the arena of course, but it's a subtly nuanced version of it. It's her arena, technically, but the elements are there so that it can be of any one of the first nine victors. A massive splash of color in the middle represents the 184 teenagers lost in there when the arena was small. Of them, 49 belonged to the first 7 victors. Not a large margin, but still large. She draws each of these 49 dots with the color she strongly calls each victor. Lupus is maroon, how he was caked in maroon through his games, and he has 12 dots, the record so far. Torrent is a light cerulean, of the sea, and when you just hold it up to the light turns dark and swirling and imposing. Leif is a dark and prominent brick red, and dots the arena with 5 kills. Romulus is grey, to represent the heights he had to climb to conquer all. Acacia, the only other girl beside her is olive, reminiscent of the trees plaguing her arena that year. Legume, of District 11 fame, is a miture of yellow and brown-he was the first victor to encounter the mutts in the games, three tributes died to them, but five fell to the victor. And Leopold, the youngest victor before her, is neon green, the color of his eyes.

She looks over the 'Collosus' as she described it and moves to the town, by far her favorite arena and her favorite part. Though she can't say that Gerry's her favorite victor, that would be herself, she chuckles. But maybe her favorite is Torrent, or Leopold, or anyone of them, she draws the tributaries that feed into the main river, which would often dry up and cut off stragglers for the while. For Gerry, she gives him a light color of amber, because his games were filled with cowards through and through, but still entertaining. She dots this part of the collective arena with five of these amber dots, he only made kills in the main town over a period of several days.

Now she moves to her least favorite dot. She mixes the color palette to form periwinkle, her and Maxine's favorite color. She adds a new location too, a religious bathhouse and worship hall, which she marks with one dot. The victors looked at her cooly, she won by proxy, only killing five with her traps-but that's the thing, traps, she didn't look any of them in the eye as they snapped their neck, choked them, threw knives in their eyes, split their heads open, or led them into a mutts den. She shivers, and she knows the nightmares will come- the ones where she's stuck in their snares, their snares. And if she isn't careful, she'll fall into the victor snare, the one that'll take away her privaleges, her freedom, her life. Basically like her own snares but she's not alone in this one.

Finally Delly finishes, and steps back to admire her piece of art. Something's missing though, and she can't place what it is, though the border looks a little barren. She snaps in realization, a eureka moment dawning as she grabs her pen. Using it, she works her magic, like a wizard from the old community tales, and she finishes after an hour. It's the best part of the painting, if she says so herself. Eagerly she grabs it, splashes of green and blue and grey and red along her face. "VICTORS!" she announces to the temporary residence. "VICTORS! VICTORS!" they come into the victor lounge, where they celebrate victories and victors alike, and notice the masterpiece hanging on the wall.

Lupus looks at the image of himself, smiling at the comparison to a werewolf. He doesn't take pride in his dozen kills, but he knows that they were necessary. Torrent raises an eyebrow impressed, he can identify him, the only water native creature along the border, a swordfish, cutting through the sea of tapestry. Leif chuckles at his own, a majestic stallion with eyes of emerald and tossing an impulsive dog in the air. Romulus stands, grunting in amusement but otherwise not showing anything as he looks at him, the fabled and strong billy goat. Acacia giggles as she finds herself, the impulsive honey badger with a red stripe down her back and two kits along her. Legume stands agape at the tapestry as a whole, but he laughs at him, the clever raccoon being chased by a horde of bees. Leopold looks over with a prideful look as he spots himself, the protective leopard hunched over a weaker, lighter crippled siblings in a cave. Gerrian finds his soon, the father bear nobly burying his relative under a river. And Delly, the sweet rabbit hops from snare to snare, outsmarting the game as it goes.

"It's lovely," Lupus speaks up after a minute passes. "Thank you, Delly."

She smiles and laughs. "It's kind of what I do best, I'm sure that you can do something just as lovely, I can teach you if you want, but, I doubt it'll be much."

"Yeah, that'll be nice," Acacia says as the others nod. "But no noxious chemicals, I doubt that these two would like it."

 **Hey guys, hopps here.  
So, Spindelly is the ninth victor, might I ask what you guys think of her? I hope she got enough attention, and she is good enough  
Hopping out  
Hopps**

 **PS, thank you Bikaran for leaving several more reviews, I greatly appreciate the advice**

 **PPS, by popular demand, Spindelly gets to live a little longer**


	10. Current Ripper

_**Victor #10:**_

 _ **Name: Current Ripper**_

 _ **Age during games: 18**_

 _ **District: 4**_

 _ **Games: 010**_

 _ **Death: Games 072, Jake**_

"So, any reason that we all aren't meeting in the Victor's lounge?" Spindelly asked to no one in particular. The ten of them, Lupus, Torrent, Leif, Romulus, Acacia, Legume, Leopold, Gerrian, herself, and their newest, Current congregated on the top of the tribute/mentor center, sitting uncomfortably along a large glass table in chairs. "So sorry that you have to go through this just as soon as you got out of the infirmary, normally we'd greet you and get to know you better, but it appears that we can't do that for you."

"Yeah, we'd just talk, the handful of murderers we are and tell tales and engage in various acts of comraderie with you," Leopold added.

"Let's try to begin now," Lupus interjected. "Normally we'd do this in the privacy of the room but seems just as good a time as any. Lupus Marterus, first victor."

"Torrent Swell, second victor but you knew that already."

"Leif Vanas, third victor."

"Romulus Cobalt, fourth victor."

"Acacia Quills, fifth victor, and the first girl."

"Legume Nitrate, sixth victor."

"Leopold Mustang, seventh victor and first volunteer."

"Gerrian Tomion, eighth victor."

"And Spindelly Baker, ninth victor," Delly concluded after they went around the table. "So, who are you?"

The newest, a muscular man tanned from the seas of District 4, sank in his seat as nine pairs of eyes faced him. "Current Ripper, tenth victor, and the first one not from your guys' arena?" he hesitantly said.

"Don't worry, it's better to talk when there's food around, I should know," burly Legume said heartily, slapping his stomach in jest.

"Just don't get near Gerry and Leo, they're closer than rabbits, and as _straight as them, "_ Acacia said as she leaned over.

"I'm afraid I lack the context," Current uncomfortably said. "I assume, that you're a mom?"

"Yeah, the baby gave it away?" Acacia replied.

Before Current was able to answer, the door opened and head gamemaker Silvanius, emcee Ponicherry, secondary gamemaker Phyle, and a smartly dressed politician walk in the room. All at once, the victors rise and part for their guests, remaining standing until all four seat themselves at the ends of the table. "Hello Victors," Ponicherry trills.

"Today, the four of us have a proposition for you," Phyle says respectively. "Minister Snow, shall you present the files?"

The politician, dressed in all white save for a rose pocketed away in his coat pocket, smiles thinly. "I do not believe that I am the most well known amongst you District citizens, so let me introduce myself. I'm Games Minister Copernicus Snow, one of the lead supporters for the hunger games," he says with a smirk. They pale in his presence, but grip the table so hard that cracks begin to form. "Heh, If I'd have known that you'd have been so adamant about meeting me, maybe I wouldn't have come."

"Maybe you shouldn't have," Current whispers under his breath.

"Ah, Current, how exactly did you enjoy last week? You were the first in what we call, multi terrain arenas. See, we wanted the field to be as even for the tributes as possible, so we gave a lake, yes, but there were also caves, trees, deserts, fields, even the odd power cable or some form the cabins we had there. We are sure glad that we have you as our first victor from there, and must I say, you looked rather, ravishing with the girl from District 7." Snow paused for a moment and let the victors remember just after the bloodbath, when Current and Acacia's girl, Sarah, were allied and decided to-engage in a teenager's favorite group pass time.

"Please Minister Snow, continue," lead Game Maker Silvanius interjects.

"Ah, my mistake, but the gamemakers and I agreed on something a little while back, just after Mr. Ripper here threw the boy from District 1 off of a cliff. Mr Marterus, Hadrius, Vanas, Mustang, Svell, and Ripper, this mainly involves the six of you, but we'd rather have all of you hear this. Seven Districts have had victors in this first decade of the games, and we would like to bless them with a training facility. It'll enhance your youths to their fullest potential and provide proper citizens for the bountiful nation that is Panem. However, we agree that we'll also give the youths a rather _unorthodox_ opportunity to say the least, Mr. Tissera?"

The lead gamemaker clears his throat and takes the files from Snow's hands. "The games need a little extra bit of excitement, and as Mr. Mustang exemplified several years ago. If I recall correctly, the male tribute from 1 in Gerry's games trained under Mr. Mustang." Leopold nods slowly, and keeps his mouth shut as he continues to hold Gerrian's hand. "Final three, and the number of adept youths for the hunger games has seemingly skyrocketed afterwards in District 1. It's a shame we couldn't get any of them this year. However, District 2, 4, and 7 have all produced volunteers in recent years, have they not?"

The five victors from the named Districts nods. "Okay look, if you don't mind Silvia," Ponicherry interrupts. "We give you this facility, and the youths they produce may very well be created just for the Hunger Games! THink of the fun they'll have!"

No one speaks for several minutes. It's Acacia who speaks up. "You're telling us that we'll train our children, to kill other children, for the sake of some endorsements in the Capitol, and their lifelong memory being marred with the blood of others?"

"Why yes, Ms. Quills," second gamemaker Phyle says.

"I'm sorry, but forgive me if I already disagree with this plan outright. I have to take the twins down to get their shirts changed," she says as she leaves, one baby in each hand. "I'll meet the rest of you down in the Victor Lounge if you wish to join."

"I also apologize," Legume speaks up just as Acacia shuts the door to the roof behind her. "District 11, we have a thing of respect going on, we don't volunteer, ever. It bites us in the ass, but our community is there to pick us up immediately after. I wouldn't have it any other way, and they could be learning better things than which vein to slice."

The man from District 11 leaves as well, taking the file handed to him and discarding it off of the roof. "If anyone else has any objections, or wishes not to hear the rest of the plans, please leave now," Snow tells the remaining eight victors. Delly gets up first, leaving the men and Ponicherry to deliberate. After a heated and quiet argument, Leo lets Gerry go, promising to make it up for the night. "Very well gentlemen," Snow says to the victors from Districts 1, 2, and 4. "What's the consensus?"

Lupus raps his fingers on the table. "We are still allowed to incorporate whatever programs we wish into this, right?"

"But of course, after all, the victors will be some of the best teachers the Districts can offer, and they'll be running the institutions," Silvanius cheerfully says. The 28 year old man turns to the only other victor from District 2, lean and mean at six foot six and 2% body fat. They work out an agreement between themselves before turning to the gamemakers with simultaneous nods.

"All I need you to do, is sign here, and you're free," Phyle says, bringing over a sheet of paper to their hands. They sign it quickly, and leave just as quickly, Lupus slapping his partner's back in affection.

District 1 takes somewhat longer, what with Leif being somewhat adamant and Leopold being all for it, considering he saved his brother by volunteering and made it back. They can have more heroes, more panem citizens, and could save the community home kids, Leo argues. Leif, already out of it, asks for the slip of paper, which they sign and leave shortly after. "Current, I don't want to have you thinking about decisions like this so soon, but, do you want to?" the older District 4 mentor asks his victor.

Current thinks for a long time, never slipping his hard mask on his face. He recalls the 8 tributes slaughtered at the bloodbath last week, the mutts chasing him and Sarah through the pine forest, two girls caught struggling out of the desert, only to be put down by Current. "They won't know what they're getting into," he says with a released breath.

"We can prepare them, they won't have to starve, and they'll be good for the year," Torrent argues. He senses the newest victor clenching his fists back and forth, blinking in and out, temples throbbing, before he manages a slight nod. Snow hands them the papers, and they sign.

"Nice doing business with the two of you," Snow says as he leaves with the three gamemakers in tow.

"Current, come on, we're doing what's right for them, they'll be in good hands," Torrent whispers after they leave. "They'll be safe, and we can protect them. They won't be one of the 23 dead."

"I hope you're right," Current says before turning with his fists raised against his mentor. "

"I'm still your mentor, and I can still kick your ass even after eight years from my arena," Torrent says bravely, grabbing the shorter man's wrist. "Let's go, if Gerry and Leo are making out then we're fine."

 **Hey guys, hopps here.**

 **New chapter, new victor, new arena, and gasp! the careers are formed shortly after! I thought I'd try something a bit new here, and if you guys want to know a bit more about Gerry and Leo then maybe I can slip something in there next chapter, which, spoilers, will have the first official career victor. Ok, about Current, I'm sorry if he didn't seem to get the spotlight here, but maybe you caught enough of his personality to like him? And, check out my new poll for favorite victors, it'll be updated everytime I add a chapter, so new victor, new option. How about that?**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	11. Cleopatra Anatullah

_**Victor #11:**_

 _ **Name: Cleopatra Anatullah**_

 _ **Age during games: 18**_

 _ **District: 2**_

 _ **Games: 011**_

 _ **Death: Games 083, Meditara**_

Nine times Cleopatra Anatullah would be bound by the number 9

 **It's eight fifty-eight at night** , Cleo's nine years old, building a bottle fort with her 3 year old brother, trying desparately to tune out the noises of her father, Marcus, shouting at their mother. She always had a big imagination, oftentimes her dreams wake her up and she tells her dad, who writes them down as she relays them. It's the norm per their household, he often yells at her once every weekend day, but something's off. Cleo knows that her father isn't a nice man, but surely he loves his wife. Something falls in the other room, it sounds heavy and judging by her mother's screams, it's valuable. Her father shouts back, and Cleopatra jumps in shock, accidentally knocking a beer bottle off of their shelf. It breaks in two large pieces and seven small ones, but she thinks that she only needs to grab a piece. "Stay here, Stannous, I'll be back in a minute," she tells her nervous brother.

"M-Mom, dad," she asks as she walks into her parents room. She finds her mother on the floor, using a fire place poker to fend off her father. It's like that tv show they have her watch, and suddenly she thinks that she's Lupus, or Torrent, and rushes in front of her mother, jabbing the bottle shard into her father's side, like Lupus did to that boy from Nine. He topples to the floor, mom screams, more bottles break, and the old family heirloom, her mother's father's grandfather clock, chimes nine times.

 **It's September 9,** and the court case has finally finished. "Ms Cleopatra Anatullah, nine years of age and in trial for the injuries inflicted on her father, against the jury and the people of District 2, find her in no way responsible for the injuries for her father, as evidenced by the testimony provided by Ms. Cesia Anatullah, for she was acting in self-defense," an old man in the justive building tells her. "However, after much evaluation from a doctor, we require Ms. Cleopatra Anatullah to attend hard training with Mr. Lupus Marterus, whom she may recognize as our first victor, for as long as Mr. Marterus sees fit."

The trial dismisses soon, she runs to her three year old brother and hugs him, it's the last time she'll see him for nine weeks, while he moves to the community home and gets settled. Her parents are divorcing, a common truth for many of the District 2 residents, marriages just don't seem to last long. A man taps her on the shoulders and walks with her brother out the Justice Bulding's large oak double doors. Stannous looks behind him and sniffles. Behind her, the victor, a tall and muscular man with dark grey eyes and scruffy brown hair clutched her shoulder. "We'll start tomorrow for you, rest up, you have a lot on your plate," he told her. She nodded, and stared emptily at the double doors.

 **Three years later, she's 12 years old, the day is may 9th,** and she doesn't even break a sweat when she sets to scaling the sheer cliffs behind victor's village. Cleo joins her best friend, a girl going by Simmone, as they race up, and she beats her by nine seconds. "How do you do this so fast?" Simmone asks her when they rest on a little lip several ways up the mountain.

"I've been doing this for years, and you've only started a year ago," she giggles.

"Come on, I'm so much stronger and taller than you, I should be beating you at this," Simmone whines.

"Well, the boy from 7 was so much stronger and taller than Leif, but he died, anything happens in the heat of competition," Cleo countered. "Come on, we've spent so much time waiting up here that they're probably serving lunch now, let's go," she tapped Simmone on the shoulder just as she drank water. She choked, grabbing her throat to get air, but she slipped, and fell onto a lower lip, several dozen feet below her. "SIMMONE!"

Her best friend lay splattered on a terrace as Cleo made her way to her. She cried at some of the older trainees to get up to her, bring her body down, help her in any way, but Simmone is dead, and Cleo killed her accidentally. Simmone would be the first person dead at her hands, but far from the last.

 **Cleopatra is just out of work,** and making her way to the Victor's village, about to check in with Lupus for her first workout of the year. She should have left several months ago, but something about devotion keeps her there. "Hey crista," she says to the desk secretary. Crista's about Lupus' height and two or three years his junior.

"I'll tell him you're here, I suppose that you've signed up for the six years program," Crista replies.

"Yeah, I can't leave you guys for too long. Plus I've got three others here who want to join, they think it's fun," Cleo replied with a spit. "Mangan, Plum, and Chrome, come on," she said to her friends waiting just outside of the door.

"Well, I mean if they can pay us soon, then we can get them assigned. Cleo, you're a pretty good as a 16 year old trainer right now, I'll talk it over with my brother and give you a team of 8 to train," Crista Marterus said warmly. "Though you're always welcome with us, and I'll see if Romulus is willing to give up some of his trainees for you."

Cleopatra became a trainer at the age of 16, just in time for the ninth hunger games.

 **Cleo turns 18** during Current Ripper's victory tour. Districts 1, 2, and 4 are currently leading in the victor statistics, with two victors each. Lupus brings her over, introducing Cleopatra as a girl as close as his sister. Lightly, Lupus turns Current to the side and whispers. "I've already told her to volunteer," she overhears. "I have a lot of hope for her, and she's close enough to Romulus so that they can help each other through the games," he says.

"We're going to try to get this girl, Nova, father's a fisherman, and mother's a pearl diver, the boy's going to be Adin, same business except he works part time as a shell picker, so we hope we have a chance," Current replies.

"I don't want to be with anyone I'm close to," Cleopatra speaks up. The two victors, legends in their rights, turn to her and let her continue. "Lupus, I know you're trying to go for Mangan, but he and I are too close, I don't think I can see him die."

Lupus sighs and crosses his arms. "Whoever it is is entering an alliance with District 1 and District 4, who do you think that it should be, Cleo?"

"Noah," she replies as she takes a swig of cider. "Lean, tall, capable enough to return if I don't, I want him."

Lupus turns to Romulus, Torrent, and Current. They deliberate for a moment, Romulus obviously trying to praise Noah for all his merits but Lupus bringing in his faults. "Nothing's going to be certain once they get in," Torrent speaks up. "Did any of us expect Delly to kill the girl from one her year? Noah sounds valiant enough, I say we let him in."

Current nods and Romulus smiles. Finally Lupus turns to Cleopatra, "We'll let him know, it's still his decision if he wants to volunteer, but be wary, you know he's kind of sullen."

Noah agrees the next day, and several months later, a crying twelve year old boy profusely thanks Noah, tall, dark skinned and blue-eyed, before running to join his mother. Cleopatra joins him shortly after, volunteering for a merchant's daughter who had barely learned to hold a knife to cut steak. Cleo looks up at Noah, three inches taller than her, and smiles in reassurance. He returns it.

 **It's Day 9** in the arena, and Cleopatra is so close to going home. Only one girl stands in front of her, a skilled lumberjack from District 7, and one of Acacia's greatest chances to bring home a victor. The girl, Sai, is stronger than she looks, having allied with the boy from 3 to create explosives, before taking him out and detonating them herself. Three tributes died under her, including Noah, but Cleopatra's a witch at hand to hand and sparring combat, and killed seven tributes these ways. Two of them were in the nine person bloodbath on the first day, the only one of the District 1, 2, and 4 alliance not to score a kill was Adin, though he made up for it shortly after. Of the five tributes who wandered into the mountain valley, and ended up dying, she killed two more, bringing her total to four by day 4. She holds Noah's death accountable for her. She saw him raise a shield to his upper right, but the boulder came from the left. She could have warned him.

There were five tributes alive the start of day 8, Cleopatra took out two of them- the winners of separate fights, the boy from District 10 and the girl from District 4, Nova, who she considered an ally. Cleopatra killed 7, Sai killed 4, and now it's down to the finale.

Sai taunts, she raises her axe that she used to dispose of the girl from District 6, and tries to hit her in the side. Cleo jumps out of the way, to the side of the precariously balanced rock they fight upon, shifting the weight a little, but not too much, and she regains her balance soon. Cleo counters with her rapier and dike, slicing the girl in the arm and kicking her away. Sai regains her balance, but a moment too late, and the axe that she swings at Cleopatra's hand takes it off, but falls with her as Cleo kick her in the stomach. Cleo sees Sai's body on the ground, hair fanned out and blood leaking onto it, and suddenly her last kill is her first. She wonders how she'll Simmone up, screams at her to get up, someone to help her, when the trumpets ring.

 **It's 9** o'clock in the evening, and she sits on the victor's throne in front of a massive audience of cheering crowds. Ponicherry titters with her a bit, compliments her breast size, and then moves to start the show. Esmeralda and Vivald, the volunteers from District 1, smile eagerly to the crowd, and soon end up crushed under the same boulder. She sees herself, smiling at Noah reassuringly, before he ends up crushed by a boulder. The tributes from 3, Orris and Spara, both dead before the bloodbath, Orris by Nova's spear and Spara by her dike. Nova and Adin, from District 4, his tousled and her wavelike hair jumping in the wind, before Adin died in an ambush launched by the tributes from District 8 and Nova fell to Cleo's glaive. Districts 5 and 6, Ren, Cassie, Porxy, and Radia, the first three dead in the bloodbath and radia taken out by SAi.

It's District 7 and Cleopatra falls into a stupor, watching the meaningless images go by of every tribute, dreaming of her first kill, Simmone all those years ago from District 2, her best friend, who she realizes that Sai looks a lot like her. She doesn't recall the boy from 10, the boy from 12, or the girls from District 9 and 8, but she answers Ponicherry's questions tiredly, and leaves with more emotional weight than she expected.

 **Twelve o'clock noon,** the day after her interviews, she meets the other victors for the first time. Current and Torrent meet her first, shaking her hands firmly, and complimenting her about dodging boulders and taking out the bitch from District 8. Spindelly walks up to them, slaps them hard, leaving a bruise on their faces for the rest of the two hours, and initially is cold to Cleo. But she laughs abruptly, says that she looks like a kangaroo, and gives her a drawing of it, the hopping victor. Gerrian and Leo are kind, and slap her like one of the guys before making out on the table. Legume holds out a plate of sliders, and sprinkles a bit of pepper on her and shakes her hand and clears her cheek when grease spills out.

Acacia walks up to her last. "Congratulations," she coldly says. "I guess you had the advantage, my friend," she murmurs. "Welcome to the club."

If Cacia's mad, she doesn't show it, if she even is a little distant. Spindelly pops up next to her as she writes a little poem, something to soothe her mind. "Hey," Spindelly says, causing her to jump.

"Oh hi, umm, Spindelly?"

"Call me Delly. Acacia and I thought you would win outright," she speaks in a lowered voice. "We made this for you for your victory." Spindelly pulls out a notebook, bedazzled with the image of a kangaroo, a long lost creature from the old continent of Australia, about eight by nine inches, and rife with several dozen clean pages. "Don't let her get to you," Delly says kindly. "District 7 always puts up a good fight but Acacia just wants to bring someone home. She won't hold you accountable soon."

Delly gets up and joins Legume in a lively discussion about the proper growth of marijuana. Cleo looks down at her paper and begins to write.

 **It's Day 3 of** the 17th Hunger Games, she's helping Two's newest victor, a clumsy man without his own weapons but endearing nonetheless send a message to his tribute, a girl by the name of Bolea, vicious and one of the strongest girls of her year, but she goes mad in the maze, where statues prick at her every turn and the hedges wrap around her, slowly choking her. Something grabs at her, through the bushes and she screams as her voice continually gets cut off, her face turning blue when calloused hands tighten their grip. They pull her through the bushes and leave her to die in the ivy. "Told you I'd get you back," Acacia chuckles as Bolea's cannon fires.

Cleopatra doesn't move as Acacia's boy runs through the maze, shrieking as birds replicate every single thing as he moves. Cleopatra breathes and pulls out her notebook. She's going to have a lot of fun taking Razer to the breakaway room. She continues to write, much like she has always done the years after her own games. She's published in the capitol, one of the darkhorse writers and actually pretty successful. It's the least she can do, and The Gone Book of Poetry, voices never heard, will be out one day, when she brings another one home.

 **Hey guys, hopps here**

 **Sorry for the lack of an update for the past couple of days, I'm in a rigorous program and trying my damn hardest to succeed and have been studing for a big exam that I'm pretty sure that I messed up today, but here's the next Chapter.**

 **District 2 gets Victor #3, and what do you think? hate her, like her? let me know. I'm not entirely sure of this format, but I think it works, though the context gets confusing, so sorry if you end up confused. Up next is going to be a fanon-fleshed character so I'm honestly unsure what to do, but she's a definite fanfavorite from the best district**

Hopping out

Hopps

 _Ps. Thank you, guest User Juliana, glad that you are a fan, and thanks to Bikaran, for being so concerned. and thank you to all those reading  
PPs. Death has been changed from 80-83 due to having Meditara win another later hunger games_


	12. Magaling 'Mags' Seros

_**Victor #12:**_

 _ **Name: Magaling "Mags" Saros**_

 _ **Age during games: 16**_

 _ **District: 4**_

 _ **Games: 012**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games #85, Whelsis**_

"A legend has to start somewhere," an old woman tells her great-grandchildren as they sit on a stick hut that opens to the ocean in front of them. They're a crazy bunch, but whenever grandmother talks, they immediately settle down. "The people of District 4 are varied yes, but only because the sea that they came from is just so varied," she says with a coughing laugh.

"We've heard that story, can you tell us about the mountain children again?" a boy with dark brown hair and copper like eyes says with a grin.

"No, dummy," his cousin, a much older girl with sand-like hair and pale skin interrupts. "Tell the tale of the tree people."

"Come on, mammaw just told us that yesterday. I want to learn about the beast tamers," another child interrupts. "Or maybe the field roamers, or maybe-"

"No one wants to know about the vehicle masters, Santus," the impulsive little girl with dark brown hair says as she lightly shoves her brother. "Mammaw, come on, I want to hear the one about the reflectors of the diverse wilds."

"That's _old,"_ a girl said rudely. "Come on, mammaw, why can't we hear a story about the congregation? Like maybe the fifth one? Or the eight one? I don't know, maybe one with a cute guy?"

"How about this," the old grand mother said to her great grandchildren. "I'll tell you a story about the dozenth congregation. Just calm down please." The four children sit down and fidget as mammaw coughs, sitting on a reed bench and recounts. "Now, we all know that for 12 years since the passing of the dark days, the mighty capitol sent the masses to watch a highly energetic series of games in a 'fun' tv show. This year would provide the dozenth survivor, a special one in their own right, if I do say so myself."

Mammaw pauses and waits for the swell of the water to die down. "The three most powerful communities, the dazzlers of the sun, the children of the mountains, and the people of the sea-"

"Is that us?" the boy with the copper hair asked.

"Yes, shush, let mammaw continue, Santus," his sister interrupted.

"Calm down please, I'll tell the story as soon as you and Phoebe stop arguing," Mammaw told her children. "As I was saying, the sun dazzlers produced two children of glimmering hair that reflected the beautiful natural light, the mountain children were of boulder bodies and dark obsidian hair, while the sea children were men and women were both strong from days on the seas and elegant as a result from wrangling those fish over and over."

"And the woman was gammy Mags?" the sandy blond child asked innocently.

"Why yes, she was my mother," Mammaw said with a laugh. "Tell me, did I tell you guys this story a long time ago and you just want to hear gammy Mags' story?"

"Maybe," the sandy toe-headed girl said with a mischievous grin.

"Don't worry, Amy, I'll get to it, I know you love the legend of gammy Mags," Mammaw said before continuing. "This year was special, all 24 kids were regarded as heroes in one way or another. The six volunteers, including gammy Mags all rescued incapable children from the permanent congregation. The participants from the bread bowl spotted a wild wolf stalking the fields when little children like you played. The participants of the shocks helped prevent their hospital's power from going out from a large earthquake. The boy from the tree community pushed a little boy out of the way of a falling branch, the girl prevented a fire from spreading. Heroes like these were well missed in the communities from which they came, and there was great mourning when 23 of these heroes eventually fell to the horrors of the once fun arena."

"But Grammy Mags survived against all odds," a deeper voice added. "Come on Mammaw, you can tell us your story when we get home."

"Serval, I just love the view here, home can wait, and your children are waiting eagerly, aren't they?" Mammaw said as she gestured to Phoebe and Santus. "I know you love the tale of Gammy Mags, so take a seat with us." Serval smiled warmly and let his children sit on his lap as Mammaw began again.

"But as we all know, heroes in dire situations can do unheroic things, don't they?" she asked the crowd of children. "The boulder boy used his mighty spear and thrust it into the hearts of two crying girls, one of which calmed a raging pig and the other helped save a man's arm with her expert use of stitching. The glimmering girl still looked beautiful even as she ran her knife through the neck of a boy who rolled tires safely out of the way from a walking mother. Not even gammy Mags was spared from the brutality. She attacked the tree boy and cut off his leg, then his arm, then his hand, but he fought back and hit gammy in the knee with his dagger. All in all, 12 heroes died in the villain's game, murdered by community heroes, two of whom were killed by Gammy."

Light footsteps interrupt the story telling once more, a stocky older woman, not as old as Mammaw but old enough to pass for Serval's mother, mostly because she is his mother, finds them on the secluded shore. "Mammaw, I thought I sent Serval here to get you and the kids," she scolded.

"Mom, what's a little bonding time between generations? Wouldn't you like to join us? Call dad too, and call the rest, Gammy Mags' story is getting good," Serval chuckled.

Beth could barely restrain her smile as she relented. "Let's have dinner here then, I'll get the rest, it'll only take a minute for all six of us to bring the food." Soon the little hut on the secluded shore is filled with four generations of Saros descendants, gathered around eagerly for the story of Gammy Mags.

Mammaw smiles and breathes to observe a flock of dolphins before she continues. "It was Day 12, the longest anyone had been in the congregation since its creation, and there were just three tributes remaining. Gammy and her partner, a tall, broad, elegant man with the name of Typhon, rested as Gammy kept watch, knowing that the final fight would be both of them or one of them against the only other survivor, the boulder girl, Zircas. The boulder girl was trained, strong, powerful, and had killed four tributes already, but gammy had six kills and Ty only had two. Ty stood up when they heard the boardwalk creak from over yonder. He told gammy to look around as they wielded mighty spears, before finding the boulder girl, their former friend with half of her hair partly torn out and bruises caking her skin, but she was still strong enough to fire her morning star. It hit Typhon in the cheek, and he fell to the floorboards in pain."

The audience gasps as they munch on the meal of rice and fish and bread, and look urgently at Mammaw to continue. "Hehe, if I honestly didn't know better then I would say that this is the first time all of you are hearing this, maybe I don't need to continue if you all know that happens."

"Mammaw please, Sandy hasn't heard it, and she loves Gammy Mags as much as we do," Amy objected.

"Oh, okay," Mammaw said as she smiled. "Just for little Sandy then. It was at that point Gammy Mags became a hero again, grabbing a discarded sword from the ground, a weapon that she ain't had experience with before and what do you know? She's a natural, and the boulder girl is overwhelmed by gammy's rush of energy. Boy I remember seeing those games and the look on the boulder girl's face was the dang best part," she laughs heartily and smiles to her family. "The boulder girl is driven off of the pier and falls to the catwalks below. Her last kill before the trumpets sounded, Ty bled out before Mags was able to run for him."

The little children on their parents lap applaud before Serval interjects. "She brought food to the sea children for 12 months, winning those games meant that the pearl divers and necklace makers didn't have to starve for a year," he says.

"Well, she also brought home several tributes in her exact same position, if I recall Perry, Andromeda, and Finnick all had reason to thank her when she mentored. Even in their old ages, the first two victors, Torrent and Current, admitted that the girl had a spunk about her that would be irreplaceable," Beth continued.

"Wow," little Demos said in awe. "Gammy Mags was a hero."

"Yes Demi," Mammaw said. "Gammy was a hero, may she rest in peace. To Gammy!" she hollered, holding up her cup of water.

"TO GAMMY!" the family on the secluded shore said amiably.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
** **We have our first canon victor! And who else would it be but Mags? I know it's not really dealing with the victor bonds here, but I hope I did Mags as much justice as I could, considering that Mags is one of the most impressive canon characters and as such one of the most fleshed out by fanon. I would think that had Mags not gone into the quell, she would have lived a little bit longer, which is why her death is not the 75th games. As I'm sure you assumed, this is will eventually evolve into an AU fic, where my original hunger games story, now being rewritten, will mark 150 years. Why 150? because I like 150.  
** Also leave a review and a favorite, and thanks as always to you all for reading and Bikaran for leaving quick reviews, don't worry, I'll try to update as fast as possible if my summer program allows it  
Hopping out  
Hopps  
PS, Mags will not be appearing on the poll list, but a future separate poll for favorite canon victor rendition


	13. Daphne Rudrus

_**Victor #13:**_

 _ **Name: Daphne Rudrus**_

 _ **Age during games: 17**_

 _ **District: 1**_

 _ **Games: 013**_

 _ **Death: Games 079, Hellion**_

"Aurora, Rory," I lightly prod her. "Aurora," I sweetly say. "It's time to start the day," I tell her.

"No," she mumbles before turning over our bed.

"Rory, don't make me lift you out of there."

"Better use your legs, make good use of Leo's gift," she replies.

"Let's get down to the Y.E.C," I say, finally standing from the bed. It's been about half a decade since I got my legs fixed, and they're still rocky. "Come on, Leo wants us to talk about which two tributes this year, wouldn't that need you Ms. Head Trainer?"

"I'd think you of all people would call me by my proper title, Trainer Aurora Mustang," she laughs as she gets up. "I take it you aren't using your legs to sweep me off of my feet?"

"Come on Rory, we don't have much time before the five of us have to talk." I grab her by the hands and kiss her gently on the cheek. "Leo just had to schedule it on our day off, when we could be doing much better stuff."

"Like what?"

"Maybe a nice brunch, I'd let you pick for our anniversary."

"Well the sooner we arrive the sooner we can eat. Come on Wolfy, let's go."

The two of us walk hand in hand down to the training facility just off of Victor's park. Currently, two bronze marble statues stand at the north northeast cardinal direction, Leif with his bow and arrow drawn, and Leopold, standing tall and mighty with the sword he used to kill the 12 boy primed in front of him. Our training facility is still in construction, we only have 20 students per gender who want to train so far, but we have fought good fights in the last couple of years. The plan for the facility is once we get a victor under our belts then we can expand to make room for about 20 more students, and possibly a ten room dormitory for those supremely devoted. "Aurora, make the morning announcement," I remind her as we walk through the front doors, greeting our secretary, one of the daughters to the one of the bigger jewelers along the way.

Aurora grins as she grabs the loudspeaker microphone. "Hello students of the Youth Enhancement Center, those enrolled in martial art combat sessions for Monday and Wednesday at eleven o'clock are to proceed to training room three for the art of Krav Maga. Survivalist trainees for Wednesday and Friday sessions will proceed to the rock climbing room located in auditorium 2. Wednesday weapons trainees will go to training room two for the art of maces and clubs. And happy birthday to Mr. Knight Xerkis , 15 years old. Thank the Capitol, and have a great day." She turns to me and pretends to throw up. "I don't know why I have to do this every single day," she complains.

"We went over this," I tell her when we turn the hallway to the conference rooms. "You have the best voice between me, Leo, Leif, and Mink. It sounds like an angel of cupid singing his song of love..." I say. "At least when you don't take it up the butt."

"WOLF!" she shouts, slapping me. "Maybe I won't take it up my ass again then, and we'll talk about this in the conference center."

The two of us open the simple door and take our seats around the circular oak table, waiting for the last one of us, victor Leif Vanas to take his seat moments later. "Hello, lead trainers," Leif announces as he carries two binders of each student with us. His hair already begins to thin but he fingers the watch around his right wrist like a weapon. "In six months, we are going to be picking out two of our students to volunteer for the glory of District 1. So, let us narrow it down to eight choices and go from there."

Leif unfolds the binders and pulls out a rotating screen with all 40 of our children. "Leif, stop," Leopold speaks up. "Go back a bit, roll over to Rodrick, I want a closer look at him." Leif rolls over to an ashen skinned boy, massively muscled in the torso and with short brown hair. "Looks nice," Leo mumbles. "He's an adept wrestler, but has little to no skills in food scavenging, and he's impulsive, the other careers won't like him, I'm saying no."

Just like that, Rodrick Furst, 17 years old, is out of the running for the year. We do this many more times, all five of us stopping the screen and narrowing it down to eight people. "Alright then," Mink speaks up. She's one of the medicinal experts, helping the tributes with more survivalist measures instead of physical ones, and pretty damn good at that. "I guess I'll notify these eight people when I get to them, several 16 and 17 year olds, but half of them are 18, typical."

"Hey, 16 year olds can fight," Leopold objects. "It's not like most of our victors win based off of age alone."

"Calm down, Mustang," Leif says. He rubs his temple and his platinum wedding ring begins to glimmer in the low light. "18 year olds have the best chance, I think that would explain Wolf's devotion to keep you protected from almost certain death. And if I recall correctly, you were the first non eighteen year old to win."

"I understand," Leopold says swiftly. "I'll keep watch for the trainees today, they're all scheduled for sword play soon. Aurora, Wolf, just enjoy your day, I'll take it over with the rest of the trainees."

"Alright, I mean Wolf and I had much better things to do today," Aurora says with a giggle.

"Speaking of, it we want to go to Pariah's for brunch, we have to go now, sorry to leave so soon," I apologize.

"We'll see you soon, Wolf," Mink says as I take Aurora in arms and leave the conference room.

By the time we head out of the Youth Enhancement Center, the sun is almost at its highest position in the sky and the restaurants are starting to teem with even more life. "We'll cut through Victor's park," I suggested. Sure enough, the radial design of the park allows most of the District square to be accessible.

"Good morning, Mr. Mustang," the maitre'd says as we walk in. "I suppose that you guys want your usual nook, and the usual meal?"

"Yes please, and your children are doing highly adept in our program," Aurora chimes in.

Soon we're seated with our favorite brunch on a beautiful day with a view. "Honestly, I don't really have my heart out for Drex Rudrus," Aurora speaks up. I look at her curiously as I bite into a bit of eggs and steak. "I shouldn't say why in the presence of his father, but his sister seems like a valiant choice."

"Daphne?" I ask.

She nods. "She's the best chance we have in getting District 1 their first female victor, and if we had to choose her, I don't want to send her in against her brother. She's a surprisingly born leader, from Leopold told us, it's usually the District 2 tributes, if they're in an alliance at all, that tries to lead."

"I've seen her acting, and she needs to improve on that," I add. "But I see where you're going. Don't you think that Drex would get sort of pissed if we passed him over for his younger sister?"

"He's level-headed, and that normally would be something good in the arena, but I don't think he actually has it in him to kill."

"Drex is ruthless with a war hammer, but in that regard he's a bit of a one trick pony, you know Aurora, if you're ever so subtly trying to brainwash me into leaning towards Daphne, it's working."

"Since when am I ever not trying to sway you to my side?"

"I don't know, when I tried to propose?"

"Oh shut up and eat your eggs," she says, throwing a packet of jam at my head.

"So, why me?" Daphne, five foot nine and with a blond pixie cut asks me as she swingsher axe.

"We've had several months to talk about it, and during Leopold's discussions with the District Four victors, they're all the willing to have you lead," I reply as I swipe her axe away. "Keep your other hand where the axe would be in case the swing misses."

"Got it, so, what's my angle?"

"Deadly vixen, you're beautiful enough to pull it off," I say.

"Are you flirting with me, Mr. Mustang?" she taunts. "Because after this we can very well head into the side room for some intimate tutoring."

"I'm a married man, and you're much too impulsive for my liking."

Daphne uses the side of her axe to knock me off of my feet and pin me down by the chest. "Like that?"

"Perfect," I say with a smile.

She helps me get up and accompanies me as we go to sharpen our axes. "Who's my partner?"

"Mrs. Mustang is talking with Harrison right now, you'll be familiar in his skill with a war hammer by the time the reaping rolls around," I say. "No problem right?"

"Just peachy, my parents are going to lose one of their best partners," she mutters.

Reaping day comes and goes, Daphne uses the angle I told her to, I followed up on the risks of winning if she so happened to win, and she said she's going to handle it. Now, the trainees and trainers alike are gathered in the auditorium, watching the aftermath of the bloodbath. I've told my group of four to watch for how subtle body language can get you far, farther than even the best training score and most seductive interview. Daphne kicks a body as the cannons chime, ten this year, one of them the girl from District 9, dispatched by Daphne herself. They only let the tributes from 1, 2, and the boy from District 4 in this year, the girl from that district is being kept back. "Why'd you let her live?" Daphne asks the girl from two.

"You know as well as I do, she won't last long, they didn't even have a volunteer for her, hah!" the girl brags.

Her partner slaps her upside the head and talks. "The first six victors weren't volunteers, and there's something calculating in her eyes, like Delly," he adds.

"Shut up," the boy from District 4, blessed with the natural sweeping good looks of his district says. "Daph, come on, there's a tribute nearby, I just know it."

Daphne nods, telling the girl from 2, Blunt that their game isn't over. She breathes, and walks into dense overgrowth that looms in the jungle. She carries her pack around her back- it saves her life when the boy from District 10 tries to stab her in the back.

"So, based on what we've seen so far, we should get our students prepared for the notion that they may have to kill their partner," Mink tells me as we watch Daphne and Harrison face off against each other in the wreckage of the former career camp.

"It was only a matter of time," another trainer, Raphas, says. "You could have seen the alliance splintering, and now, with District 2 out, they can get rid of each other."

They've been relatively safe in the career alliance, but it eventually wore down to the five of them and two outliers. "The warhammer is too hefty to wield quickly, but if anyone is built for it, then it's Harrison, and he isn't going down without a fight," I repeat to myself.

The hammer hits Daphne in her left arm, but she follows back and plunges the tomohawk she wields with her right hand into his left temple. She pushes his slumping body off of her and lets him fall to the floor. "It's you next, Scylla," she directs to the four boy as she wipes the blood off of her arm with her shirt.

"Nine kills," Aurora tells me once the games finish, with Daphne standing over the boy from District 4's body. "A record for District 1."

"She's changed," I say. "Look at her hands, she runs them through her hair often, she won't make it back intact."

"No one does, Wolf, look at Leo, and maybe it's for the better. Come on, we have some general payments to discuss with the District contractors," Aurora says.

"She won," I say. "She killed her partner-"

"So did Gerry," Aurora says.

"She killed him, with an axe to the head, but it could be worse," I add. "Aurora, what was it you said we needed to do? I'll join you in a minute, I'll lock up the house."

Aurora kisses me on the cheek and walks out the door. I place an order for the newest meal at Pariah's, and leave shortly after, my leg's beginning to ache again.

 **Hey guys, hopps here**

 **District 1 gets its first female victor, but not the last, and we have a little insight on Wolfgang's life. Sorry if this style isn't waht you prefer but let me know what you think. And tahnks again to Julianne and Bikaran for leaving reviews  
Hopping out,  
Hopps  
**ps. Bikaran, I read one of your reviews on Zulera's the victor chronicles, did you really just tell me to update from there?


	14. Jonas Mephrous

_**Victor #14:**_

 _ **Name: Jonas Mephrous**_

 _ **Age during games: 16**_

 _ **District: 9**_

 _ **Games: 014**_

 _ **Death: Games 046, Vedits**_

District 9, Panem's largest district, acres and acres of endless colors of grains, with the occasional building and stream punctuating the fields, small wonder life gets boring quickly. There isn't a lot to do in the District, besides walking and working and talking, but some activities are just harder than the others. Victor's village is a skyscraper compared to the rest of the District, one of the largest clusters of houses, but as of late, one of the emptiest. It gets lonely in the idyllic village, Jonas knows that, and when his mentor is busy holed up in his house, working on whatever topiaries and bonsais, he's usually alone with his thoughts.

He thinks almost daily, about all 23 tributes that were dead in games #14. It gets severe enough that he goes the day without eating, choosing to let his younger siblings, Relli and Basil, spread his pantry about the District children. He becomes gangly, suffocating on his thoughts and seizing over the rain that falls once in a while, even the sprinklers. His game was abundant in water and food, but all talked. They screamed at Jonas and his allies Timon, who, if it weren't for his adept skills with a sword, could very well be mistaken for a tribute from District 9, and Mona, his sixteen year old partner. Timon was interesting, he didn't agree with the now traditional alliance of the 1, 2, and 4 tributes, and allied with him and Mona, saving them from the blade of the girl from 1.

Now he's just a friend lost to the dust, killed in the finale by the boy from 1, before he was taken out by Jonas' scythe. District 2 was hard, Timon was a worthwhile ally but not well regarded by his mentor, Cleopatra, who looked at District 9 with judgemental eyes even as he accept the medallion. The food attacked Jonas, and it actually knocked him out once, only to recover the day later, and took out the walloping mangrove. He got soup, one of the few foods he eats now.

"Jonas?" Basil asked, his fourteen year old frame leaning awkwardly against the porch railing that opened into the village's main courtyard.

"Hey Basil, what's up?" the soon to be seventeen year old asked.

"Jonas, I have some bread out for you, and an orange if you need the vitamin D, I took out the rest of the pantry so that you won't be upset," he mumbled.

"Thank you Basil, be sure to check on the counter, old man Massif sent your paycheck and its there, and give Relli her check too, and lock up." By this point Basil left, probably to talk to his parents, estranged after Jonas' _peculiar_ habits to say the least.

He has friends too, friends that tell him to eat like a victor, he deserves it, but after the five he killed with his scythe, he can't keep it down. "Jonas," his mentor, caring Gerry, who always laughs even during the worst of times, and is seemingly eternally happy with his boyfriend. "Jonas you need to eat, the District would kill for the food in your pantry."

"Gerry, I told you I'm fine," Jonas said aimlessly. "I just want to think."

"Well you've had enough thinking for the month, Jonas you weigh less than you did in the arena."

"Maybe I just want to join them," he darkly replied.

"This isn't healthy. You'll be due to mentor this year, and they want to have you to be someone to support them."

"So they can end up regretting every decision they made? So they can look at the most ridiculous thing and then freak out? I'm just tired, I don't need to eat, Gerry," he said dismissively.

"If you want to think, come on, let's play a game, Capitolism, every Victor's house has one like it, and it's something fun to play even if it's kind of dark," Gerry offered.

"If it'll make you feel better I'll eat the sandwich Basil made for me, and join you for one round, but afterwards I just want to sit."

"I promise, after we play, you can go ahead." He pulled out the cube and unfolded it on the side table that rested next to the swing, wheeling it over as Jonas grabbed his sandwich. "You know how to play right? Just end up with the most food and 'style' by the end of the game before you get your job."

"I just gave away all the food I had," said Jonas dejectedly. He picked out his token, a pink wig, and set it on start. He used the pinball machine to determine how many spaces he'd move, and moved ten. He landed on a simple space, he just needed to play the plinko game ten times to get a multiple of ten to get that many style points, and then he could use that to buy whichever wigs he needed.

"Truly a shame that this waters down the best aspects of the capitol," Gerrian muttered. Jonas shrugged indifferently, rotating the board to him and collecting his 20 style points. "Who's on your mind today? Mona? The boy from 1? The girl from 4? The boy from 5?"

"Neither," Jonas replied when Gerry got a space to go on job spree, whatever number the token fell in would be how many units of food or extra style assets. "Timon, my ally, District 2, died third place, five after Mona."

"Ah," Gerry said knowingly. He grabbed his token and moved it three spaces, giving up two tokens of food, but regardless still in the lead. "According to Cleopatra, he saw you as his brother, and died trying to protect you. He figured if he couldn't save his brother from muggers years back, he'll die to avenge him, and save you."

"That's why he volunteered at 16?"

"Yep, something was nagging at him to, and he professed volunteership before their chosen. But he's one of the best examples of things not going to plan, and made it to the top three," Gerry replied. "You didn't have to kill him, and he didn't have to kill you, that's what he wanted in the end."

The silence in between replies drew out as the game progressed and Jonas slowly took the lead by owning a fashion mart and setting five new trends, but Gerry wasn't far behind. "If I had to kill him, do you think that would have been hard? I mean I trusted Timon, but I didn't see him like a brother like he did to me."

"That's something only you can answer, but no kills are easy," Gerry replied quietly.

"Who was your hardest?" Jonas asked as he moved.

This time the silence was initiated by Gerry as he moved his piece for the last time. "Brivette Tourmal. My district partner, last kill," he says bluntly.

"Not your brawl with the boy from one?" Jonas asks, intrigued.

"No," Gerry replies rapidly. "I better get home, my bonsais need watering. Bri looked out for me, and I looked out for her. I only killed the boy from 1 because he threw a mace in her gut. Ask around the district, people might know of her."

Jonas helps Gerry pack up swiftly yet cleanly, sliding the tokens into the token box and dismantling the plinko choosing machine. "I'll be sure to ask when I make my rounds," he replies.

"That's good, get out in town, and don't slouch over those who died for you, they wanted you to live as if they were your family, I learned that the hard way," Gerry says. "Don't forget to eat tonight, and if you're still thinking I'll be back tomorrow."

"Thank you, Gerry," Jonas says with a strained smile.

"No problem," Gerry says as he walks back home.

 **Hey guys, hopps here  
District 9 gets its second victor. With that, Gerrian and Jonas are in the double victor club, as of now the only occupants, but at least they have multiple victors. And for those asking (Bikaran, my loyal reader, please get an account, Id love to actually talk with you through private messaging) all districts will get their victor before the 30th games. I don't think that it's far of a stretch, but it's reasonable, at least in Oisin's work and Gamemaker 97's, so I'm slipping mine here.  
Also, what did you think of District 9? did you like my description, what little there was of it in hindsight? And what do you think of Jonas? Favorite, hated, boring? and the format? what do you think?  
Let me know in a review  
Hopping out  
Hopps  
Ps. 75% of districts get 1 victor before hunger games #20. 2, 4, 1, 7, 11, 9, and 8 already have theirs, but this next one will be from a different District-which one? You probably won't have time to guess because I'm getting to work on her chapter ASAP**


	15. Trusty Compton

_**Victor #15:**_

 _ **Name: Trusty Compton**_

 _ **Age during games: 15**_

 _ **District: 10**_

 _ **Games: 015**_

 _ **Death: Games 059, Adin**_

Two weeks in the arena. Twenty-one us are dead, five of us are still alive. Wait, the cannon fired-twenty of us dead and four of us alive. I've managed two kills so far, the girl from District 1 from when her and her partner ambushed me and my ally, Caleb from District 5, a while ago and even farther back the boy from District 3. Caleb and I found him hiding behind a radiator, at least he went down quicker than the girl and boy from District 1. 3 of the tributes alive, me, Caleb, and the girl from District 6, are from a District without a victor. Even after fifteen years, our tributes never made it to the very end, they've gotten close, District 5 has a history of getting close only to fall because of some stupid mistake, but no victor.

But the problem lies within the other one, the boy from District 2. He's as strong as a bull wrangler back home, and ruthless, he's killed 8 by my counts, and if I'm not careful, I could be one of his kills to become a victor. I don't know how many the others have killed, besides Caleb, who only had one, the boy from District 1. But the arena has been in my favor, it's a slaughterhouse, but darker and bigger. It's a waste of potential, we can use slaughterhouses of these structures to take out multiple animals at once.

The anthem plays, the boy from District 12 appears in the ceiling before fading into oblivion. Then the anthem keeps playing, slightly quieter, and a parachute falls to me. "HELLO TRIBUTES!" Emcee Ponicherry's voice echoes through the empty floors of the arena. "CONGRATULATIONS FOR ALL OF YOU MAKING IT JUST _SO_ FAR THIS YEAR! NOW, WE WANT TO THANK YOU ALL, WE HAVE PREPARED YOU A FEAST! IT'LL BE OF UTMOST USE, WE ONLY WANTED THE BEST FOR OUR TOP FOUR! IT'LL BE THERE TOMORROW, AND APPEAR PROMPTLY, _AND MAY THE ODDS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOR!"_

The transmission cuts, leaving me almost in the dark, if it weren't for the flashlight provided in my parachute. Also in the parachute, a strip of beef jerky, a pint of water, and a map of the arena. The slaughterhouse, as I expected, was just like the one at home. It's divided into six floors, taller than the District's but still built to code. Fifty holders line one side on each of the four floors, several cleaners line another wall, and the waste takes care of the rest. We enter the floors either through the stairs that spill into the middle or fire escapes on the outside walls, where gaps in the holders or bins allow for easier escape. Now I know where I am, the fourth floor, and the cornucopia, where we all began, is where the feast is held, is two floors below me. "I guess I'd better go then," I mumble.

Usually the floors this late at night would be crawling with rat mutts, but I guess the arena has been cleared for today, and I make it to the cornucopia in no time. I decide to make my camp in the cornucopia itself, sure to be the first to get the supplies and wake up refreshed in one of the few shelter-like areas in the first floor. After an hour of resting up, I fall asleep, and dream of the past.

" _Dad, why do you work at the slaughterhouses? And why did you bring Patty there today?" I was nine years old then, learning about the slaughterhouses but not quite knowing what goes on there._

 _His hair, greying and thinning, is marred with blood because he hasn't taken his shower since he came home. "Some things have to die so we can live," he quickly replies. "Go on, run along, I'll take my shower now, and prepare dinner for you, darling."_

 _We lived in an apartment close to the pig slaughterhouses just me and him, and Patty was my piglet, found on the streets after a truck from the ranches dropped her. I nursed her but after two years, Dad explained that she was too big, and when I asked him my usual question about the slaughterhouse, I asked about about Patty too._

It's all I dream about for the night, before the sounds of machinery whir to life and the cornucopia lines itself with weapons, food, water, and medicine. Several of the gifts have notes to them, one of them is given to me and I read it. "Death is necessary for life," it reads. The only person I know that wrote it for me is my father, who has it branded on cow skin blankets on our houses. Under it is a whip, thin metal coiled around a wooden handle, something that I've been told to use for training. I knew that I'd never work in the slaughterhouses, and the whip is something more controlling than I would like, but still better than the claustrophobic conditions in the houses. A piece of twine glimmers in the corner of my eye, under a note that says, "Good luck Trusty, we're waiting for you."

The only thoughts as to who it would be is my best friend, Vettin, who somehow was able to pry herself from her boyfriend to write this. I receive other supplies, and a plan falls into play. I use the twine to create a simple trap, supported by a block of wood from a table, anything in here is useful, and wait for a while behind my trap.

"Wh-who are you?" the girl from District 6 asks m, the second person to arrive.

"Just grab what you want, and then run, I won't hurt you," I reply cautiously.

"But, this is the hunger games, I can't go home without a kill," she replies.

"Then be the first, win, what I'm about to do won't make me a good victor, kill me if you have a chance, but spare me for now, I have another thing on my agenda." The girl, only about my age now that I get a good look at her, looks at me warily and takes to searching the supply of materials in front of her. She muses over a piece of bread, keeping her eyes trained on me all the while, and doesn't notice it when her throat is slit by a jagged dagger.

It's the boy from District 2, not Caleb, but still one of my biggest problems, probably the biggest. He leers as the cannon fires. "So, thought you could wait for me, could ambush me?" He taunts in my direction. I try to mask the fear that comes, even with my trap he's still a volatile threat, and his nine kills signify that. "Lupus and Romulus and Cleopatra told me that I was young, too young to match up to the glory, but look at me now. BITCH! YOU'RE NEXT!"

He charges at me, tripping over my trap and feet are hoisted to the top of the cornucopia, he drops his dagger in shock, and the blood rushes to his head. "Sorry, but you forgot where we are for a moment," I say as I stand up, holding his dagger in my hand.

"This is the hunger games-"

"Shhh...shhh," I patronize. "This is a slaughterhouse, for pigs, cows, and maybe the odd District 2 tribute." I plunge a knife from the nearby tables, ignoring the label on it and trace it over his back. "Hmm, you're pretty good looking, nice well muscled back, too bad it won't be for long."

I stab him in the lower back, just to the right and he screams in agony. I let my hands dance over his body, investigating him like my dad would tell me he does to cows ever so often. "Long legs, looks like it's your detriment this time." I tease as I slice his thighs. This continues for several hours, or minutes, or seconds, but all I know is I'm having too much fun. "Did it feel this fun when you killed the boy from District 6? You know he was an uncle, his brother died several games ago and left his kid orphaned. How about when you killed Curtis? You know, from District 10?"

By this time I've tied his hands together, with much struggle, and am working his arms. "Well, too bad these arms couldn't help you get out of this trap." He screams again when I plunge a sword through both of his hands. I slice him here, there, and slit his throat to end his life. "I hope you now know how Shauna felt."

The cannon sounds, and the boy from District 2, Stannous Antullah falls to the floor, dead and mangled like the bull he is. It takes several moments of me staring at his body, not recovered by the hovercraft, and at the 6 girl's body, before footsteps snap me out of it. "Trusty," Caleb says, dumbfounded.

"Caleb," I reply in the same tone of voice. He's the same age as I, 15, but slightly taller with a lean and flexible frame. Only his red hair signifies he's from District 5, his olive skin could mean that he has relatives in 12, the green eyes, relatives in one, and his name even signifies that he's from multiple Districts, I knew a kid named Caleb in District 10.

"You, you killed them," he dumbly says, walking to me. "How?"

I don't answer, just throw a knife in his left eye. He screams in pain holding his face in agony. "I only killed the boy from 2, the biggest threat. Caleb, we're free, it's just the two of us, but you know where we are right?" He doesn't answer, instead focusing on staunching the blood from his left eye. I throw a knife in his right, and he screams even louder, falling to the floor in pain. "A slaughterhouse, and I'm sorry to say that District 5 will have to wait longer for a victor." I throw three more knives, one at his throat, his stomach, and heart. "I'll give Stacy a kiss from you."

His cannon fires, and suddenly I think of every single talk we had when allied together, how he joined the wrestling team, how I raised Patty, how he got a girlfriend, our reactions to Shauna, Caleb's partner, dying at Stannous' hands, and how close he was to go home. All it took was five knives for the District 5 boy and now I'm going home. I realize a bit late that I'm bleeding in the left leg and right arm, but oh well, the capitol can fix that. I think I may have a future in the slaughterhouses after all.

 **Hey guys, hopps here**

 **District 10 gets it's first victor after 15 years. So, tell me what you think, as per norm. How was District 10's first? Like her allies? Shocked at who she killed?  
Juliana, if you're curious, Leo and Gerry are a thing. Just so you know. I think I mentioned it in passing during Current's chapter, but for how they got together, I have a oneshot about it on my profile. And Bikaran, thanks for reviews, but I didn't think you liked Spindelly that much. now for sure I won't change her death.  
Up next, a career victory, with District 3 sometime in the future, and vote on the poll**

 **hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	16. Razer Castle

_**Victor #16:**_

 _ **Name: Razer Castle**_

 _ **Age during games: 17**_

 _ **District: 2**_

 _ **Games: 016**_

 _ **Death: Games 080, Striker**_

"Cleopatra, are you sure this is alright for me to do?" the nervous young man, average height for his district and about average build, if slightly bigger asked his mentor.

"You know two of the victors there, and we don't hold what happens in the arena accountable, no matter how hard it may be in the worst of times," Cleopatra said as her eyes went hard.

"I'm a victor, and thus they should treat me as they would each other?"

"Glad you remembered what I told you, and think of the tributes as comrades, and they know that they did whatever it took to get out, remember the tributes with respect, and just maybe they'll forget how you killed them," Cleopatra added.

Razer nodded, taking interest in the beautiful brass doorknob and the fine oak finish of the Victor's lounge. According to Lupus, he took Torrent and Leif here, a small room with high quality fixtures after Leif's games, and past several fights, shouting matches, they became good friends. Lupus prided family, the papa wolf he is strong enough, and he was the first, and promoted it through the capitol. It makes sense that as soon as the door opened, Lupus welcomed their newest victor, and District 2's fourth, with welcoming arms and a beaming smile. "Glad you made it today!" he chortled, holding a glass of wine.

"Why wouldn't we, Razer has to meet the others some way," Cleopatra replies.

"Just keep him away from Trusty. She's kind of pissed at Razer still," Lupus whispers.

"The nerve of some people," Cleopatra replied, throwing her arms in the air. "Oh, yeah, Trusty Compton, the District 10 victor from last year, the bitchy butcher who killed Stannous."

"I made a wild guess," Razer replied. He knew it was a sensitive subject and with the way he is normally around others, there's no way that he could dance around the subject.

"She's apparently still bitter about Razer chopping of her kid's hand," Lupus said. "Tried to talk to her but…"

"Leave her be," Cleopatra interjected. "She killed my brother, I wouldn't want to talk with her anyways, Razer why don't you go off, mingle a bit, we're a lovely bunch once you get to know each other, just avoid Jonas and Trusty for now."

"Why Jonas?" Razer asked confused.

"Timon," Cleopatra replies quickly. "And you know why Trusty isn't willing to talk with you for now. Anyone else is fair game, now go on, we'll see you in several hours."

Cleopatra shoo's Razer off, turning to grab Lupus' wineglass as they make their way over to a table next to a billiards rack, which Romulus, the fourth victor, waits as he shuffles a deck of cards. Razer looks around, dodging several avox servers and moves to the food table. _It's always a reliable place to start, and who knows, maybe someone will talk to me,_ he thinks.

The food laid out on the table is exquisite, more food than his parents ever could bring home, and more that would fit in his pantry. "It's quite a shame, this food is excellent, sad it's going to waste," a dark skinned burly man said as Razer picked up a slice of watery green fruit.

"Oh, am I in your way?" Razer stuttered.

"No, no, I just thought I'd introduce myself, break the ice a little. Legume Nitrate, District 11, their first and only victor," he said, holding his hand out for him.

"Razer Castle, District 2," Razer replied. "So, District 11, I hear it's pretty humid down there."

"Oh yeah, but the weather doesn't really affect our growth, most of our crops are in these biodomes, they simulate the weather and keep track of all the plants at once. Try the butternut dip, it really works with the chicken feet. You know, for a kid who chopped seven people's limbs off, you're actually pretty nice."

"Thanks, I guess," Razer said quietly.

"Hey now, that's a compliment, but I guess that's typical of District 2," Legume added. "I mean besides Romulus, but from what Cleopatra tells me about his belief in the mountains, he's nicer at home."

"I wouldn't know, he trains pretty hard, and trains us harder," Razer added as he recalled Romulus shouting at them under driving rain as rock after rock came onto his back. "It was nice meeting you, Legume, was it?"

"Same here, and you got it," Legume said as he moved to another table on the other side of the room. Razer pondered over the butternut dip, and at the chicken in his hands. He dipped it in, without thinking, and tried it. It tasted good. Seemingly contempt, he grabbed a heap of it and placed it on his plate, looking around the Victor's lounge in evaluation. He found an empty seat, far in the back with a dimly lit lamp and sat, eating his chicken when a shadow crosses his plate.

"Hi, you took the career alliance to its logical solution effectively and proved to be a worthy victor," a woman said, pulling a seat next to the victor from District 2. "I'm Magaling Saros, but call me Mags."

"Razer Castle," he said, wiping his mouth with a pink napkin. "Filipino are you?"

"Sorry?"

"Nothing, it was just something in a book, people from this old nation from before the dark days, and they lived on an archipelago and-sorry, you aren't getting any of this are you?"

"I can't say that I am," Mags shook her head. "So, tell me, is the reason you went for the silent but deadly approach in the alliance because you didn't like your allies that much, or because you're pretty awkward?"

"Uhhhh…."

"Save your tongue, I can tell it's the latter. Don't worry, you'll get used to us after a year. If you like history, there's this great library in this hidden street, so to say, if you like, we can go," Mags offered.

"Sure, any time soon is good with me," Razer replied in excitement.

"Alright, hold on, I have kind of an appointment, and my appointment is fucking some Capitol fucktard who thought that I was just so hot when I killed the girl from One. You'd think after four years that I'd be dying out, but I guess puberty disagrees," Mags said in resignation

"You'll forgive me if I don't really follow," Razer mumbled.

"Have they not told you?" Mags asked. "That's terrible," she said as Razer shook his head. "You know that pension we get, right? Well, there's a catch, most of us here have had our crazy fans, and if they ever so please, we can _spend the night_ if you know what I mean."

"What? I thought that-"

"Yes, yes, it's quite a shame. Some victors take it better than others, Acacia, District 7's only, she was the first, and she and her husband haven't really agreed on the subject. Legume, his parents went out after he initially denied their requests."

"Wait, you're saying that…" Razer stuttered.

"Unfortunately yes, if you don't then your parents will end up dead. I know this wasn't the time to speak about it, but we're victors, we can handle this, and the president will let you know when to have an appointment. They don't let you have any appointments if you're younger or after the first week you get out, but come the victory tour… Well I don't want to bother you, I'll talk with you for our date, tomorrow after lunch?"

"I'll see you then," Razer said awkwardly. He took to eating again as Mags began to talk to who he assumed was her mentor a while ago, before interrupted again by two men, barely two inches apart height wise, but just as broad and arms crossed. "Hi," Razer mumbled as he munched on a celery stick.

Without warning, the shorter of the two, and possibly younger, grabbed Razer by the shirt collar and forced him against the wall. "You think that you can just stride in, eat what's on the table, reclude yourself into a corner, and not talk to us?" he hisses.

"Leo," the other man, darker and taller, says as he puts his hand on the other's shoulder.

"Look, I don't know what you have any business dealing with here, not after you sliced off my kid's arm in the arena. She was 16, and you're?"

"Seventeen," Razer replied monotonously. "And I don't care, she attacked me first, mister, it's the hunger games."

He punches him, of course he punches him, and suddenly Razer's back in his own game, multi-terrain, the second of its kind, and the boy from District 1 is pinning him against the wall of the cornucopia, punching him in the nose as Razer tries to wriggle free. He stops when the boy's partner draws a finger of blood across his back, and frees Razer, only to attack him moments later. "Leo!" the other guy shouts, putting him in a headlock. "Sorry about that Mr. Castle, Gerrian Tomion and Leopold Mustang, we'll talk to you later."

The darker of the two pulls back his cohort, trying to reason sense into him. It registers in the other's eye and he calms down, but pointing at Razer in what looks like a huff. Gerrian reasons with him, bringing his head down to talk to him closer. Then Leopold kisses him, much to Razer's shock, and they fall on the couch, pretty damn deep into it. "Sometimes I don't understand why I gave Leo leopard and Gerry bear. With how they make out they could be bunnies." a new person, who seats herself at the same table, said loudly, causing Razer to jolt up. "Sorry to scare you, I'm Spindelly Dicer, but call me Delly, District 8."

"Razer Castle, District 2," he replied, trailing off as he remembered the girl from District 8 he slammed into the cornucopia. "Sorry about your-"

"Don't worry, I understand, you had to get home, but at least you killed her quickly." She sipped her drink, sparkling cider and turned in her purse. "I'll be honest, watching you in your games made it very hard to determine who you were. I do this for all of us, so that's kind of why the tapestry has a bunch of animals lining the border."

"You drew that?" Razer asked, impressed.

"Oh yeah, it's very therapeutic, and I added yours on there, just a while ago. So it took me a while, but I settled on this old creature, long extinct but very powerful, you got rid of the opposition rather quick, if I do say so myself," Delly mused as she pulled out a piece of paper. On it was a delicately colored large cat with lots of black dots and a glistening amber sheen that flowed with the shadows along the muscular frame. In its jaw was a medallion, engraved with 2 on it and featured his best weapon, a hefty javelin crossed around the edges. Below its feet were the flat backpacks, various colors, all of them, and spilling out something- a gem, a fish, a piece of twine, it seemed endless. "It's a bit similar to Leopold, but this animal is a cheetah, once known for their fierceness and speed. Seven kills so seven dots for you, what do you think?"

"It's amazing," Razer barely replied. "Thank you. So, can you tell me a little bit more about the tapestry lining the room?"

"Oh sure, nine of us fought in the same arena for the first nine games, but it was expanded upon for the eighth and ninth games, so it takes the place atop the hearth, every dot I placed was representative of our kills. It's a rough subject, but we all have at least 4 dots on the tapestry, and I'll add to it for a while," she explained, rolling her hand on one of the bare patches of wall.

"But what if you die?"

"It's a matter of when not if, and by then I'll have someone to take over. I see that look in your eye, why don't you tell me what you're thinking?"

"Oh, yeah, I'd just really like to learn your trade, keep it up in case you die before your time."

"I live in District 8, smog town central, the only clear places are victor's village and victor's park, everywhere else, you can't see the sky, I have 50 years on me, at least. I know what it means to die before your time, in the community home we saw five beds empty up per month, so I know a thing or two about death, and I know so much more after my games," she replied sternly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise that was a sore subject for you," Razer apologized profusely.

"If you want, I can teach you after your date with Mags."

"Yeah, yeah, that'll be nice," Razer said eagerly.

"It actually kind of helps, with the deaths, that's kind of why I did this in the first place, you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," Razer replied with a nod. "So, tell me more about the tapestry."

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
So, the fourth career, and the fourth District 2 victor. I hope his personality is easily seeable, I was trying to go for someone awkward outside of the arena, but I'm not sure if it turned out good. Tell me what you think, and leave a review, let me know on the polls. Any questions? let me know in a review. Also, if this goes up by then, Happy fourth of July!  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	17. Streak Virous

_**Victor #17:**_

 _ **Name: Streak Virous**_

 _ **Age during games: 18**_

 _ **District: 7**_

 _ **Games: 017**_

 _ **Death: Games 039, Barbara**_

From the reapings, Acacia felt it. She knew that this year was going to be her year. 12 years of waiting for a victor, the longest solo victor for a while, and something in Acacia's gut told her that she would bring home someone. The reapings, heralded by Cassiopeia, as always, brought forth two tributes, as per usual, but they were both strong. In a sense, they were like her and Rutt from 12 years ago, strong brooding tributes each with potential. The girl was 15, not an impossible age to produce a victor, but kind of rare, if Trusty and Delly being the only the then 15 year olds to win meant anything. The boy however, the boy is a symbol of District 7 beauty, captured in Acacia for the girls years ago.

It's a quality capitalized on by their stylist, old Hera Jaundice, still kicking in the 12 years after Acacia's victory. She knows the risks, but Acacia tells her to go along with her plan, and the two tributes, Juneau and Streak, roll down the avenue of tributes in their beautiful tree inspired designs, earning immense sponsor support, some of the most. Maybe it's the bountiful chest that the girl has, or the rippling abs on the guy, but once the training scores come in, 6 and 8, Acacia's sure that they can win. Their interview, of which they only played with the audience, rolls by, and support for them skyrockets.

That was two weeks ago, the games have reached day eight in the nightmare of an arena, and six tributes are left standing. Acacia sits soliditary, the boy from District 9 died an hour ago, thrown himself down a pit at the encouragement of several bird mutts. One of their newest, a skinny man from District 9, left in a coughing fit and in tears, throwing up as he saw what happened down in the pit. The games are new this year, as they always are, but the arena is now in a garden, hauntingly beautiful with the ever present mist and topiary figures.

But the maze is the real killer, after the ruthlessness of the last two victors, named Trusty Compton and Razer Castle, the gamemakers decided to take things in their own hands. Of the eighteen deaths so far, half of them were made by the puppet masters with their maddening mutts and ever changing maze, and of the nine other deaths, five died in the bloodbath, unusually low for the start of the games. Currently alive, the career girls from District 1 and 4, long since abandoned their fellow ally, the boy from District 1, Streak, one of District 7's strongest chances and only had to make one kill so far, the girl from District 2, the boy from District 8, and the girl from District 9. Acacia's girl died on day 3, dragged through the sharp bushes by an unseen force.

It's hell in the arena and the tributes know it. Sponsor support has been dwindling for all tributes, and they're going raving mad. The careers, so dependent on their looks and such, have resorted to skinny dipping in the bird baths that occasionally appear in the courtyard. Delly's boy, very resourceful, finds out that the bird mutts are edible, and has been eating them for the past couple of days. Delly manages to send him a liter of water once in awhile, and he makes it last. The boy from District 1, somehow still alive, cradles under the roots of a resting tree. He knows they move, they know it moves, but he's too tired to walk. Gerry's girl has been trapped in a finicky part of the arena, left wandering around in circles because the shrubs won't open up for her. And Streak, Streak is this damn close to clawing his eyes out as he talks to one of the statues, a pale white effigy of Leopold (for some reason) and has been flirting with him? No he's probably drunk on craziness.

The day passes by without a hitch, and only Jonas' boy, Acacia caught his name as Lucas a while ago, shimmers in the sky, sad eyes blinking one last time before disappearing. The tributes begin to fall asleep one by one, securing their provisions wherever they can and resting with one eye open. "Acacia," someone says as he puts his hands on her shoulder.

"Hey swordfish," she replies as she greets her best friend. "How's life in District 4 going for you?"

"IT's the usual, training a bunch of kids out on the sea and on land, I've found myself a girl if you can believe it," he replies sheepishly.

"That's brilliant!" Acacia says. "And here I thought you would only have me to call you out on your fashion choice. What's her name?"

"Jenna, Jenna Scalone. A year younger than me, and she wants to help out in the training. She walked up to me one day asking for a job, and well, things kind of clicked from there. How's your family?"

"Savon and Steven are just rascals. They get it from their father, and they're just growing up so fast! I miss them dearly, but a job's a job I guess," she sighed. "Honestly with your looks I'm surprised that it took you this long to get a girlfriend."

"Maybe I'm not as flirtatious as you, but I do know that I'm more handsome."

"Boys are supposed to be handsome, but with your pout, I'd describe you as pretty." They laugh for a while, taking care not to disturb any of the resting visitors before an avox interrupts their catching up session with a message delivered on a silver platter. "Aesclipius Covrit," she reads the name aloud, her face hardening as she thinks.

"Do you have to go?" Torrent asks.

"Unfortunately, you know the drill, take care of my tribute, won't you?"

Torrent nods and smiles. "Good luck, wear him out quickly."

Acacia blocks out her mind as Aesclipius _Call me Sclip_ takes her on the bed. He allows her to top, but that's about all she remembers, and by the time the session is over, she runs to the District 7 floor and runs the shower on full blast. She hugs a picture of her family, her siblings who have long since have their own families, her husband, and her children tightly as she screams. Thankfully it lasts less than a minute, and by the time she steps out, it's barely 4 o'clock. She makes her way to the top floor, where the mentors are, and falls asleep.

A bright flash of light wakes her up, "WHAT THE HELL?!" she screams, an emotion no doubt replicated through the rest of the mentors. The light dims from the big screen in the front of all of their stations, and the tributes rub their eyes uneasily.

The camera transitions to the career girls, rubbing their eyes and grabbing their shoulders in disbelief. "I CAN'T SEE! MIRA! MIRA!" the girl from district 4 screams in her partner's ear.

The mutts begin to move, all twelve dozen of them, and they make their way to the tributes. "Pacific, Pacific, PACIFIC! DAMMIT I'M RIGHT HERE!" Mira screams just as loud.

They break down in tears, they've found each other again but can't see but at least they're not alone. "Shit," Torrent quickly says from his station. From cameras installed in the mutts, two statues, effigies of Mags and Daphne, circle around the crying girls, tapping them every so often. The fisher girl screams, and attacks her ally, mistakenly believing her to be her tormenter. The fight isn't pretty and by the time Mira finishes off her partner, there's blood in her hair. She screams as she sinks to the ground, further tormented by the effigies until they poke her eyes out, and spill her guts.

Two cannons fire. "Final four," Daphne says as she packs up and slaps an avox, who delivers her a slip of paper on a metal tray.

It's clear the finale is imminent when the boy from District 1, Bacchus, as Leif said a while ago, is carried away by the walking tree and crushed by its roots. Leif breathes deeply, rubbing his temples, whispers something to a picture of his son, and leaves. An outlier victory is inevitable, and either Delly or Acacia or Gerry will bring home a victor.

It turns out it isn't Delly. Her boy, maddened by the shrieks of the flowers runs into Streak. "What are you?" Streak asks as he fumbles around, blinded by the same flash of light that hit the girls. The boy from Eight fights him, trying to get on his torso, but he manages to jump on hsi back instead, and he's pulling out Streak's hair and yelling obscenities. "BLOODY MURDER!" Streak screams before throwing the boy off of him.

"Please, just end it," Acacia says as she drains her sponsor pledges of money to send an axe, large and double sided with rubber grips. It's enough to hit the blind boy from District 8, and send him fallen. The boy screams as the axe hits him in the legs, the arms, the stomach, so many times in the stomach. Not even the cannon sounding stops Streak.

"Two," Delly simply says as she leaves.

"Delly," Acacia says as she intercepts the District 8 victor. "Delly I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Delly says, looking up at the taller woman. "He did what he needed to, and if I were in his shoes, I would. I think that a primate like animal suits Streak, doesn't it?"

"Delly, I didn't want it to be like this, I'm sorry," Acacia says as tears leak out of her eyes.

"Acacia, I think you should get back to your tribute, and victor if I'm not mistaken." Delly leaves the sponsor room, leaving only Gerry and Acacia and Torrent, who decided to stick around.

"I'm sorry," Acacia said to Gerry as she sat down.

"Don't worry about it, Kadence didn't have it in her anyways, I have enough for an apple slice, might as well use it," Gerry said tiredly. He hit the button to allow for the last apple slice, worth one of Acacia's electronic toys that she gives Steven and Shavon when they're nice, and the parachute flutters to the screaming girl. She recognizes it, surprisingly, and eats into it, ignoring the footsteps behind her.

"DIE MUTT!" Streak screeches as he swings his axe at the girl. She's short enough not to receive a beheading, but the blade lodges in her temple, and it's only a matter of time before the trumpets sound.

"Congratulations," Gerry said, applauding very tiredly. "Seems like Torrent wants to congratulate you, and if you'll excuse me, I have a word with Leo about the boy from District 9 this year."

He stumbles out of the mentors offices. Torrent clamps his hand on Acacia's shoulders as she stares at the screen. The cannon fires soon, and Streak Virous becomes District 7's first boy victor. "Hell won't leave him behind so easily," Acacia says tiredly.

"It really didn't for us," Torrent replies. "You brought one home, welcome to the successful mentor's club."

It was clear that Streak became slightly unstable after his games, the physicians and psychiatrists appointed by the capitol claim it's PTSD, and the others believe him. His appointments, far and few between despite his lumberjack build, were always more tender, where the client can just look over his muscled torso and arms before sending him off. Another District 7 victor joins Acacia and Streak, a little over a decade after Streak's win. He's not stable enough to mentor, and he never does. He never gets the chance to before the effigy mutts grab him and send him into a spiral. A little after District 7's next, they take him into the forest, never to be seen again.

 **Hey guys, hopps here**

 **District 7 gets it next victor! Slightly insane, but another victor! I hope that I was able to develop Acacia, considering the chapter mainly revolved around her, but Streak, he's a gorgeous wreck, as I'll put it. He won't be the last one to become insane, especially not in the first 40 years. Next victor is going to be a throw away character in canon and fanon, unfortunately, and Spindelly proves her stuff as a mentor. Three guesses as to who this victor is, and the first two and a half don't count.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **P.S. After this next victor (Wonder woof it is?) Another District lacking a victor gets their first one.**

 **P.P.S Vote on the favorite victor poll on my profile page, I'm very curious to see how the votes will go**


	18. Woof Dagmar

**_Victor #18:_**

 ** _Name: Woof Dagmar_**

 ** _Age During Games: 16_**

 ** _District: 8_**

 ** _Games: 018_**

 ** _Death: 078, Niccety_**

District 8 isn't a good place to walk around in, no matter what the Capitol shows. The smog inhibits visibility most days, and chemicals in the air delay live by ten to fifteen years on average. The ones who master walking these streets, full of dogs, orphans, and dealers are usually the ones that stand the best chance of survival in the hunger games. It explains why most of their victors are from traditionally rough and tumble locations. Three of them, including Spindelly, were from the Community home, long since forgotten about by their parents, but the others romaed the streets to get their minds off of the hunger.

Woof Dagmar was one of them, by the time he was 16 years old he knew most of the District like the back of his palm. It allowed him to escape the hurried chases of strict peacekeepers who decided that maybe he got the bread illegitimately or was wholefully responsible for that bum down near the hat factory falling off of the railing. He makes it to home almost all of the time, as the old saying goes, "All roads lead to home."

It's a motto he lives by, and through the years it's been rock hard reliable. It was ingrained by his father and mother, back when they still had time to care for him, before the taxes soared after Delly's victory, before they downsized from their three bedroom house to a small one bedroom flat closer to the pigment creators, before they both became alcoholics and only Rufus was there to keep Woof from the community home. Woof used to dream with his brother about going back to that bigger house, where security was better, and with Rufus, it seemed possible.

Rufus was 17 years old when he was reaped, and Woof was 13. He was one of the many slaughtered in that hideous brick building, at least he died in the bloodbath before the true psychos appeared. Woof took his job in the belt cleaners, earning a paltry five dollars per belt he cleaned. "Someday, I'll bring you home," Woof promised as he wiped the belt that led into the trouser machine, he meant it.

A hand in the reaping bowl would bring his promise to fruition. His name was called on one of the few sunny days in the District and he took his place next to his partner, a shivering dirty blond girl of 15 years. Delly, their only victor by this point, looks the two of them over roughly. "You two have a chance," she says bluntly as she pulls out her notebook. "Alex," she said, pointing to Woof's partner. "You look like a healer, medicinal skills are always useful in arenas." She pulls out a sketch of an arena from years past and Woof's face hardens.

"Don't show me that," he muttered.

"Woof Dagmar," Delly said in wonder. "Those icy blue eyes seemed familiar, and now I recall. Rufus Dagmar, bloodbath, right about here." Spindelly declares, pointing at the center of the arena.

"Yes, now shut up," Woof angrily replied.

"We can learn from mistakes of the past. If the arena is in a building or something along those lines, skirt the edges of the cornucopia, it worked for my girl that year, and it eventually did for Trusty. If it's natural, head more into the middle, often times the more valuable materials are hidden there, just in plain sight, it helped most non 1,2, and 4 victors in the years since the original arena was expanded," Delly said, closing the page which had the sketch of the typical cornucopia outline on it.

The rest of the week flies by. Since Woof and Alex are both involved with textiles, the stylists, a clumsy old man going by Jaimeen and a perky girl named Euryale, let them modify their outfits with personal touches. They blow out a part here, add a patch there, more color here, and so on until the chariots run by. The stars of the show this year, however, are the tributes from District 3, Caleb and Marian, the second tributes to go by those names in the arena, stealing a quarter of the Career's sponsors with their electrifying routers atop their heads.

"Watch them," Delly said as they stepped off, her voice becoming harder as the week goes on. Training flies by without much of a hitch, both Alex and Woof slip by the careers, Hyperion and Bella from District 1, Thallius and Borealis from District 2, and Wheeler and Lorelei from District 4. They all score within 7-10, typical of the last years, and Woof and Alex get scores of 5 and 6.

"Pretty nice, considering what we usually get, and scores aren't everything," Delly reassures. "Trusty won on a score of four-"

" _Can you stop saying her name?!"_ Woof hisses.

"Woof, it's in the past, you need to leave that behind you in order to function the best, and she didn't kill him, it was Stannous, the butcher," Spindelly says as she rubs her head.

His interview is about average, Woof talks about his work as a belt cleaner, determined to keep his brother's dream alive of going back home, bringing his parents out of the hellhole they call home, and Delly's satisfied. "You just may have a victor," Legume says tiredly. Besides Delly, he's the only mentor who hasn't brought a tribute home, and they plan to instruct their tributes not to kill each other in the arena, only if it comes down to it.

The shaky alliance is what brings Woof out of the bloodbath alive. He skirts the middle of the room, like Delly told him to, and the boy from District 11 cuts down a wiry girl trying to jump on him. "I'll see you," Woof says as he runs from the battle, leaving ten others to die. The faces that light up the night are Caleb and Marian from District 3, he recognizes Marian as the girl who tried to jump him. Then Lorelei and Wheeler, who must have been betrayed by their fellow allies, the boys from Distrits 5 and 6, the girl from District 7, **_Alex,_** the boy and girl from District 9, and the girl from District 10.

He doesn't know where he is, but Delly does, the computers in front of her show that the tributes are stuck in an underground bunker, long abandoned and with mutts on patrol. She waits behind the computer as Woof faces off against three of them on day 4, using the only weapon he obtained in the cornucopia, a large spear. He uses it to impale one and they back off, content for the day. Woof's sponsor pledge amount rise after his kill, and he gets a weapon better suited for his lanky frame, a broadsword, one of the only weapons Woof touched when training.

He uses it to face off against the girl from District 5 the next day. They fight roughly, and messily, and Woof gets a shuriken through his calf, but he recovers and takes out the girl with a stab to the stomach. He shivers at the blood, but continues onward, pillaging the body of its green backpack. The careers find the tributes from 11 several hours later, and it's their deaths that lead to the collapse of the career alliance, of which only Hyperion and Borealis survive, with grave wounds.

The ceiling lights that day with five faces, the most since the bloodbath, and the tributes are in the final six. Delly gives Woof a set of healing supplies-his leg instantly recovers and he navigates through the dilapidated corridors of the bunker, searching for tributes. He finds Borealis first, disappointment that _he_ the District 8 boy who only got a 5, where she got a nine, is going to kill her. She puts up a pitiful attempt at a fight, which is easily dislodged by Woof's sword, and he lodges the sword in her throat, listening to the gurgles as she dies.

The girl from District 12 dies shortly after, at Hyperion's hands, and the tributes are already in the final four. It's day 6 and the gamemakers decide to draw the survivors, Woof, Hyperion, the boy from District 7, and the boy from District 10, back to the cornucopia by collapsing the roofs of the rooms. Woof's easiest kill comes when he stumbles upon the ranch boy, pinned under a large piece of rubble with no hope of getting out. When he slits his throat, it sprays out in a mist of blood, and Woof is shaking atop the piece of rubble when the cannon sounds.

The boy from District 7 and Hyperion would face off in a mighty battle, ending with Hyperion taking an axe wound to the arm but managing to snap the neck of the District 7 boy. The final two is apparent, and Woof, though covered in dust and blood and with several healed wounds, is still in arguably in a better shape than Hyperion, whose clothes are half torn off and ear is missing and blood still seeps from the open wound. It's moderately surprising, though not by much, when Woof swings his sword at the boy's stomach and chest after having recieved a stab to his thigh and has his foot crushed.

The cannon fires, and trumpets sounds, and Woof Dagmar is the second tribute from District 8 to go home. He's moderately popular, but coming after Trusty and Razer and Streak's arena, he's somewhat shafted. Not that he minds, he filled his brother's promise to make it home, and District 8's victor village has a new resident.

In a somewhat ironic turn of events, Delly has dubbed Woof the bloodhound, though he shivers at the name, and returns to the flat to find his parents nursing one. "We didn't want you to be lonely when you got back, and we got you a little dog," his mother says as they return home.

Woof looks at his parents and hugs them for the first time in years, the route he took was a long one, but he made it home, and that's all that mattered.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
So here we are, Woof is District 8's second victor, at least in my fanon. I hope I got his characterization kind of good, but looking at this, I'm really doubtful, this format was the only thing that worked for me. But regardless, here he is, and Rufus gets his dream fulfilled. Up next: Another district gets their first victor, but which one?  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	19. Burell Mysten

_**Victor #19:**_

 _ **Name: Burell Mysten**_

 _ **Age During Games: 15**_

 _ **District: 3**_

 _ **Games: 019**_

 _ **Death: 063, Levora**_

 **District 3 was one of the last Districts without a victor, in the eighteen years before, their tributes were weak. The two most productive tributes was Quipra Breve, of the third hunger games, who held two kills to her name during the initial bloodbath, and Elias Fodra, who constructed bombs in the eleventh hunger games before his death at the District 7 girl's hand. Quipra held the kill record in District 3, only to be surpassed sixteen games later, ironically due to another collapse**

He shut off the tv shortly after the text scrolled, he had just finished a documentary about the evolution of the first fifteen hunger games. Slowly he reclined in his comfy reclining arm chair, the mechanics were adjusted by a distant ancestor, it was the closest thing to fame that the Mysten family tasted before Burell's victory. Young Burell, several months after his victor, was still getting used to his new house in the fanciest part of the District. He gazed at the clock next to him and read 9:13 pm. His parents already turned in for the night, his elder sister-Videra- she'd be back in about two minutes from her job at the wind up trinket factory.

 _She didn't eat yet,_ Burell realized. He got up from his reclining chair, turned off all his lights in the living room, and wandered over in the kitchen, taking care to turn on the rest of the lights on his way. His old house wouldn't normally allow for such frivolous usage of the lights, but being a victor can have its perks, and the extreme usage of electricity was all the better. Especially after his games, he couldn't sleep in the dark.

Which made the cool blast of air from the freezer and its accompanying light all the more welcoming. He grabbed a celery stick, at least that's what Mr. Nitrate of District 11 called it when Burell first ate some back in the victor's lounge, and threw it in a pot full of water to boil. Mr. Nitrate, or Legume, the first District 11 victor, was among the victors who were most respectful to him, considering his rather _unorthodox_ win. Even Lupus, the first Victor and the one promoting all of this comradery among the victors, gazed at the teen with content. He doesn't blame him, the odds for Alix, Alicia, and Sean were all better than his, and could have very well been the victors. At least Mags didn't hold him accountable for Sean's death.

It's why he's spider, according to the woman from District 8. His arena, a garbage filled wasteland of a once towering city, was a maze and the tallest building also happened to be the most unstable. But the garbage was his greatest asset, it was a fun hobby he and Feir did in their spare time, and there were more wires than he thought. There were five tributes left by the time of his victory, the girl from District 10 dying of unrelated causes to the collapse. Burell made bombs and attached them to high points of the skyscraper preceding the site where the three careers camped out, namely a pit of discarded glass. The top several floors of the skyscraper fell on them quickly, scattering the garbage and creating a cloud of dust that obscured Burell's vision for the rest of the day. The girl from District 10 died mere minutes after the collapse, but the sound the building made during its collapse sent her in a frenzied sprint into a mutt's den.

"Spider's an apt name," he mumbles as he takes the celery out of the boiling water. He checks the clock on the wall above the stove, 9:16 it reads. "I hope she gets something for herself if she's out this long," Burell tells himself. He sets the boiled celery on a green plate and puts the plate on a table, adding a side dish of vinegar. He goes up to his room, he let his parents have the master bedroom, and sleeps in one of the smaller bedrooms that he makes his programmer's cave.

It's dark, sure, but the hum of machines and flashes of light is all too familiar for the programmer in training. He would have gone to the machine programmers, average for him, at 16 if he hadn't been reaped. His small wiry frame fits all too comfortably in the nook where he has his bed. He lies down on it, bringing down his laptop to work. "Son of a .." he curses as the laptop gets stuck. He takes the oil from the shelf next to his bed and uses it to lubricate the joints. Then he gets to work.

" _So, Mr. Mysten, congratulations on your victory," President Hail said as he glanced over his desk._

" _Thank you sir," Burell replied respectfully as he took a seat._

" _Let me get to my point, District 3 had an unusual victory this year, exciting, but overall a disappointment. The majority of sponsors for you, quite bluntly, are deranged. Mental patients, I honestly have no plans for them."_

" _I'm sorry but this doesn't compute for me."_

" _I wouldn't expect you too. See, for the victors, we usually have them for their ever loyal sponsors. I had to release Legume from this after the stress finally got to him. Acacia however, you know, the mother from District 7, beautiful girl, but as a mother she has been losing some of her appeal. Magaling, you may know her as Mags, one of the more popular. Daphne, Torrent, Leif, Current, just to name a couple. There are a couple of others not participating, from a combination of instability and undesirability. Razer, Cleopatra, Woof, Gerrian and Leopold, just to name about half. The last two only because they're just so damn in love with each other that if I broke them up, then the capitol would be in outrage. And the paparazzi has it that Torrent has a girl that he plans to marry, it's making its way around the Capitol."_

" _And your point sir?"_

" _Ah, this business has been, dying out to say the least, Streak is handsome enough but too unstable for typical acts, so this makes Trusty the most popular in recent years, if only because the BDSM subculture just loves getting high," he shivered. "I had high hopes for this year, four out of the five were great enough for this, but since their deaths were attributed to the one -no offense- less good looking one, the business is dying out."_

" _None taken Mr. President sir but how does this relate to what you want me to do?" Burell asked in confusion._

" _Well, I'd rather have my gamemakers on tasks more related to the games themselves, but Minister Snow is just adamant on having more online outreach, to coordinate for arena tours, sponsors, information, games, all because of his insistence for his son, about four years older than yourself." Hail coughs for a moment, pouring a cup of water and taking in a pill for good measure. "You'll be working to create these, a paltry price."_

" _I'll be fine with that," Burell agreed quickly, nodding his head._

" _Yes, yes, thank you, glad to see that it worked out so well between us," the president complied, shaking the teen's hand. "Oh, and Mr. Mysten?"_

 _Burell turned around, as he was already near the door by this point. "You won't mind if the District has to work longer,? Once again, a_ _ **paltry**_ _price to pay for this easy job."_

" _No sir, I wouldn't," Burell said after a moment of hesistation._

" _Alright then. Once again, congratulations for your victory, I'll toast you tonight for the Capitol party."_

It was over several months ago when he made the deal, and because of it Burell always expects his sister back at 9:15. He forgets that because of the work time, Videra was walking home a long night ago, and never made it back. IT isn't until he opens his laptop and the programming shell that he remembers her body was found yesterday, rotted beyond recognition if it weren't for the bangle Burell bought for her.

Crime has been on a rise. District 3 is a rich District, but those who aren't usually grow strong and mug. He debates on adding this to his profile on the Victor tab on the hunger games website, but drops it in favor of saying that he's a hobby programmer, turning sixteen in the next three months. He types loudly enough that he can't hear his own thoughts, his own griefs, and his own trauma.

 **Hey guys, hopps here**

 **For those of you who guessed District 3, Bikaran and Cheive, you guessed correctly. Good job! And this makes district 5, 6, and 12 still lacking a victor. They will all get theirs in the next decade, but only one will before the quarter quell. Any guesses? Also leave a review about Burell, tell me what you think of him. Did you like this style? It's kind of scattered but so is Burell. I hope you guys like it, and tell me your thoughts on this new victor  
Hopping out  
Hopps**

 **PS. Thanks to Cheive for being the first one to favorite this story**


	20. Radiance Mernal

_**Victor #20:**_

 _ **Name: Radiance Mernal**_

 _ **Age During Games: 18**_

 _ **District: 1**_

 _ **Games: 020**_

 _ **Death: 091, Marcel**_

They assign me to floor one, tribute center, the newest avox for this year. I used to be someone in the Capitol, my name was Puttridge Obellius, I had ran one of the biggest casinos, I had a family, I had the respect of the victors. And now I am avox T-908, feeding through iv tubes once a day.

So my life kind of sucks right now. It's something my husband used to say when a row of slot machines would spontaneously decide to give out their jackpots even when we had complete control. The noise of the casino made it easy to talk to him, and occasional words about President Hail and the games may have slipped our tongues. When we had them, and when we used to be together. He was executed after an hour of torture, my daughters forced to watch. They were young, and repeated words about Hail to their teachers, but they got off easy, if a little lowly. They aren't avoxes, thankfully, but they've been shipped to District 10, our least favorite district, and manage life through the mud.

At least that's what I heard from them last. I wish I could just write to them, tell them I love them once more, but District 10 isn't the best off of places. I stand erect at my position on the wall, just as the elevator opens. The peacekeeper who swept through this room told me to look forward, eyes firmly affixed, or else I'll be used for target practice down in the basement. The party strides in, led by Kenai, the bubbling overweight escort whose voice rises an octave every second only to fall down five seconds later. The mentors, man and woman as per norm, Leopold and Daphne, I recognize them now, they used to frequent the casino.

The boy and girl trailing behind them are both beautiful- Artois and Radiance, I catch their names. Artois is at least five foot ten, about average height, but is fairly large with light hazel eyes and a beautiful head of sandy blond hair. Radiance could very well be his twin sister, same height as him but in place of powerful muscles she stands elegantly, no doubt taught by Daphne, but she lets her eyes make contact with mine and I see that they're sky blue, like my eldest, Domitia. "Go get dressed, the avoxes will teach you how to use the shower, and we'll meet up for dinner to watch the replays of the chariots," Leopold, the man in a neatly fixed suit and tie, tells his tributes. No sooner do they leave that I leave from my post, stopping another avox, a man with ghostly pale skin and black tired eyes, and proceed. "You," Leopold tells the same avox. "Tell Gerry I'll be up for the night, tell him to meet me for drinks and scones downstairs."

Well, Gerry is gay for Leopold, at least the gossip goes down at the casino. I follow the girl into her room, standing next to the bathroom doorway as she strips off her light red dress and green hat. I scatter to pick them up and dump them in the hamper. She stares at herself in the mirror as I get the water ready, talking to herself. "Thank you," she says quietly as I leave the restroom. I nod breifly and give her time to be alone. Even with the water on highest blast, I can still hear her curse and knock down the hair color bottles in the shower. She finishes her shower, crying on the toilet afterwards. I don't leave her alone, I stand at the door holding her towel before eventually wrapping it around her shivering frame. Radiance looks at me, utters a quick "Thank you" before standing up, pulling on the loose nightwear provided.

* * *

The next time I have to go into her room, she's rolling uneasily in her sleep. I prod her gently, pointint out a folded pile of clothes on her nightstand and preparing to set the water. She smiles at me, thanking me more than words ever would, and leaves the room. The process repeats for two more days, but on the third day she's even more distraught and hysterical. She sounds like Domitia, I can't leave her like this so I pull her head to my shoulders and let her weep. "I'm sorry, It's just the pressure, Artois is leading the pack and they kicked me out! I'm not going to live!" she explains.

I pull her off of me for a brief moment, force her to look in my eyes, and shake my head firmly. "But you don't-" I keep shaking my head, hoping the message in my eyes gets through to her. "I don't know what you're trying to tell me, if you are even trying to say something at all, but thank you," Radiance says dejectedly.

She stumbles out of her bedroom, knocking most of the covers to the floor. As usual I pick them up, folding them into the nooks of the large mattress and step out with her laundry. Radiance sits at the table, eating oatmeal and a banana, less than she usually has, and avoids eye contact with Leopold and Artois. "Training day today, show them what you're made of," Leif speaks up, twiddling the locket with the photo of his family proudly displayed. Artois and Radiance nod, and they finish their meal and leave to get dressed. Soon they come out in their training garbs, looking as gorgeous as usual, and step out into the hallway. "You," Leif points at me. "I'd like to see the replays of the games before heading into the lounge. Put on whatever you think is good."

* * *

The day goes by uneventfully, but when the training scores come on, I have to whisk around the room delivering whiskey and alcohol to the mentors and their party. For the first time, the highest scoring tributes all got 11's. The cheers that erupted when the 11 showed for Artois only increased in volume as Radiance's score proved to match his. It was unusual to say the least, when the tributes from Districts 2 and 4 additionally scored 11's. Artois and Radiance left a while ago, and I periodically check in on them. Artois is in his room, working on his flex to look as handsome to the audience as possible, but I found Radiance on the balcony, staring over the capitol and crying.

I grab a napkin from the kitchen countertop and rub it gently against her eyes, drying her face. "Why are you doing this?" she asks me rudely. I still continue and let her cry against my shoulder once more. "Why me? They kicked me out, and I just got as good a score of them. I paraded myself like a slut for no reason, and that's all they're going to see me as." She stops for a moment, staring at my hardened face. "Thank you for listening, and thanks for the advice. You think that I should prove them wrong huh?"

I nod and part the hair from her face, wiping it free of tears. "I can do this, you think so," she asks once more. I nod again, allowing the tiniest of smiles to escape. "You seem to know what you say, have you done this before?"

I nod my head again, and straighten out her dress. I beckon her to come into her bedroom, where she sits on the bed and just talks, talks, and talks. I should be annoyed but it was my favorite part of being a parent, just talking to my children almost endlessly and letting them listen. "Thank you," she says before falling asleep.

* * *

After the interviews she's sitting on the couch, looking at the replays of old hunger games where they analyzed the tributes so far in depth. "I don't know, Timon abandoned the careers, and it didn't work out for him, he wasn't exiled like me," she mumbles into a vat of ice cream. "Daphne, she's one of the few that the pack led to victor, I guess maybe that I don't stand a chance at all."

I make my presence known by rapping my knuckles on the wall. "Oh hey," she mumbles. "Thank you for your advice, the audience loves me, I don't know what I was thinking volunteering."

I grab a photo of Burell, last years victor, and show it to her. "District 3, 19th hunger games, Burell Mysten, three kills. No allies," she reads the caption on the bottom. "No allies," she repeats. "I see what you mean, thank you once more. I hope to see you later."

She gets up, leaving the television running as Daphne and the boy from District 4 ferociously make out on screen.

* * *

I don't see anything of Radiance through the playing of the Hunger Games, I'm assigned to waiting the tables and whatnot in the president's mansion while he holds a political conference. It's when I walk by with a tray of fried shrimp that I catch word of the first two days. "Ah, Minister Syllvion," a minister tells her cohort. "I heard about District 10, sorry for both your tributes failing so soon."

"It's quite a shame, that girl, Radiance, she's been making a sweep for the past two days, three tributes already! I think you made the right decision going for her, my dear," he replies in a sly voice. He picks off a piece of shrimp from my tray and pops it in his mouth and I move on.

"Minister Snow, just how is your son doing now-a-days?" a secretary asks the old games minister inquisitively.

"He's a game enthusiast, as always, but he isn't my choice," the minister replies in between several hacking coughs.

"Quite a shame."

"Yes it is, but I'll have my successor by the end of this decade."

"Seems to be the strategy for most of us these days. I'll be happy to act as a secretary for whoever is necessary," the woman replies.

"It was nice talking to you once more, Ms. Lucinda," Snow replies before moving off with two pieces of shrimp in his hands.

* * *

The next time I see Radiance, she's about to go on stage for her victory interview. Her hair is shorter, but if anything she's hotter if the larger breasts that she possesses is any indication. She has a scar running across the length of her bicep and a metallic structure on her wrist, she sprained it when going against the boy from District 2, her final opponent. "Glad to see you again," she whispers with a smile. "I took your advice, and I won, but I killed 7," she hesitantly says.

I make my way to her, helping her run her hands through a nail painter and listening to her once more. "Three during the bloodbath, Elise from 2 and Connorey from District 4, then Yolanda from District 10. I only had to kill four more I guess, and the last was Jared from District 2. I don't think I would have done this without you, thank you."

She pulls me into a long hug after her spiel, one that I return earnestly. "The president says I need to have sex with my sponsors, I should have never volunteered. It'll give Daphne some time off, sure, but still, sex with the other capitolitans. He says I can have anything else, I asked for you."

I stare at her stunned, my mouth agape as she explains. "You've been more of a mother to me than my own mother, and the advice that you gave was way better than Leo or Daphne or Leif's. Thank you once again," she says.

 **Hey guys, hopps here  
District 1 gets yet another victor! And the second girl! So, what did you think of the perspective? I honestly don't know why but I like having District 1 seen through the eyes of others. And let me know what you think of Radiance, I know she isn't the best-I kind of struggled with her-, but she's still a victor, and tell me about the relationship between her and Puttridge.  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	21. Lumin Valor

_**Victor #21:  
Name: Lumin Valor  
Age during Games: 18  
District: 02  
Games: 021**_

 _ **Death: 080, Striker**_

For District 2's fifth vitory, the facility was expanded such that more of the facilities would be carved into the side of a mountain, also increasing the number of trainees three fold. Now, these three hundred waited in front of the mess hall as the headmistress, after taking the role from first victor Lupus in a peaceful manner, stood on stage reading her speech aloud. "As we move forward in this new era of power for District 2, there is a point that I must iterate from the experiences witnessed through this past score of hunger games," Lumin speaks in the same tone that kept her allies unitied even after the death of the girl from District 4.

"Unity is the driving force of Panem," she says as her voice echoes through the massive mess hall. Behind her, Lupus grinned with satisfaction and the other three victors replicated the sentiment. "All twelve districts collaborate to provide the entire nation with support, every District being a certain organ to the necessary function of the body that is Panem. Rogues, if left unnacounted for, will destroy our way of life. In the last years, the inner District alliance, commonly known as the careers, has suffered massive losses as a result of corruption within. This is true for the year a one Jonas Mephrous won his endeavor."

Those in the mess hall took a moment of silence as they recalled Timon Fracture, volunteering at 16 years old at the expense of one of the volunteers. He was strong, several kills under his name, but he chose to ally with the boy from District 9 and lead him to victor instead. "The unfortunate truth is that for participation in the games, unity needs to be held with a level head, otherwise it may end up unfortunate, sorry Cleopatra." The trainees looked as Cleopatra hissed in a staggered breath , her brother was tortured by the victor the year after Jonas. "Our last career victory was a doubting girl before me, and she was strong, kicked out because of a foolish decision by the career alliance."

She motioned for the victors, Lupus, Romulus, Cleopatra, and Razer to stand at her side. "Stand strong, for you are children of the mountains," Romulus said in a booming voice.

"United you shall stand," Razer added a little meeker.  
"Divided you shall fall," Lupus continued.

"Regardless, you are the best of the District, the glory of Panem, and we look forward to having more of you up with us," Cleopatra concluded.

"Remain united and lead the District to victory in the future. Your rest period is now, feel free to engage in whatever activities you wish," headmistress Valor told the students, who filed out into the dormitories. "It's a new experience, isn't it," she asked, dropping her regal facade.

"You did fine Lumin," Lupus said reassuringly. He smiles at her before turning around to talk with Cleo.

"I thought you did nicely too," Razer said, his voice subdued in the large expanse.

"Thank you Razer," Lumin said, smiling at the anti-social victor.

"Lumin," Romulus spoke up. "Thank you once again. You've expanded our training regime and brought us in the lead for the victor totals. The mountains are proud of you."

"Anything for the District, we need more heroes. I'm just glad to be a footnote for the record of our glory."

Lumin turned around to stare at the massive mess hall. The servants would soon make their way and clean the rows and rows of tables. Her mother told her tales of massive congregations in locations like this, back when the ancient Americans used to rule, where the presidential candidates would announce their intentions to the rest of the world, the country, their future people.

She breathes it in,immersing herself in the setting, like the chameleon she is, adaptability being her defining trait through the ever changing forest. The advantage would have gone to District 7 had they made it past the bloodbath, but she took care of them nice and quick, slits to the throat and stabs to the stomach disposed of them. Her partner got rid of District 9, their biggest threats other than the careers, and together the six took out eight tributes, three others dying from the outliers. The game that year was an ever changing forest, which took out three outlying kids, with the threats from Ten and Eleven out. The games were unusually short this year, as inflamed tempers reached a supernova on day 4, and Lumin was the sole survivor without much more usage than her two legs.

"Lumin," Lupus said as he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Thinking, just thinking," she replied.

"It's a victor's favorite pastime, but there are some manners that need to be taken care of soon," Lupus told her. "If you spend this much time thinking, then you're going to end up like Jonas."

"I understand Lupus. Night training should be up soon, right?"

"Yes, Razer and I will take care of the trainees today. We'll be fighting in the desert simulation. You have the agency in good hands, headmistress."

"Thank you Lupus. Forgive me, but has anyone told you you looked like Tomas?" She asked abruptly.

"Tomas?"

"The boy from District 5, my fourth kill in the…" she trailed off. "Sorry, I'm probably just seeing things."

"It's understandable, if you have an issue with it feel free to talk with us. Officially, Cleo is your mentor so talk to her, but we'll all be here for you if you need it." Lupus left the mess hall after he gave his advice.

"Razer, I just want to know what you're going to be…" Once again she trailed off, gazing into Razer-or Gilbert, as her brain would have it. "Gilbert?"

Razer raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak. "Lumin, you okay?" he asked with his ears wiggling back.

She shook her head violently, snapping the images of the boy from District 4 she was entwined with during her games, at least until she took him out with a stab to the heart. "I just want to know what you're trying to use for night fighting today, so I can catalogue it."

"Oh, I'm trying to use a spear and then Lupus is trying for a pair of sais, not something we're used to but something that the trainees will be up against, why you ask?"

"I'm just preparing for tomorrow night." Lumin waved goodbye to Razer shortly after, trying to shake Gilbert's shirtless, muscular, toned frame from Razer's conversation. Even being District 2's fifth strong victor meant that she was prone to post arena hallucinations and the like. She steps out of the training facility soon, taking in the nighttime air of District 2. From her elevated view, she spots her family's vineyard, increasing in popularity after Lumin's victory. Her mother called it the pride of her family, and she took to raising it alongside her two daughters. Maybe that's what Lumin needed, yeah, alcohold sounded nice around now. An idea popped in her head and she hopped on her personal communication device and sent an email to the vineyard and winery. _Molotov cocktails, it may be necessary_ she sent.

Yes, a chameleon. It wasn't tough like a werewolf, nor as gruff as the billy goat, nor possessive of the strong jumps and kicks in the power of the extinct kangaroo, and certainly not as fast as the cheetah, but it fit Lumin, the observer, the fly on the wall, the adaptable. And, despite the fact that it takes a while for a chameleon to return to normal, she couldn't be happier with it.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
District 2 gets victor number 5, and the headmistress of the new institution. I'm trying **_**really**_ **hard to tread carefully and not make any of these character to any that appear in Oisinn's or Zulera's work, and I hope that Lumin isn't really that similar to Boudicca. I'm sorry if the ending doesn't make sense, but tell me what you think of Lumin regardless.  
Hopping out  
Hopps  
P.S. Next hunger games, either District 5,6, or 12 will get a victor, the only one before the quarter quell**


	22. Irumn Ferl

**_Victor #22:_**

 ** _Name: Irumn Ferl_**

 ** _Age during Games: 15_**

 ** _District: 06_**

 ** _Games: 022_**

 ** _Death: 086, Merit_**

Lady Luck is a fickle woman. Each victor has to thank her once in a while, but the thanks are laden with years of resentment and bitterness. Why bitterness? Well, the first six victors were chosen on a whim, a flash of Lady Luck's hair, and for most of the non-career victories, lady Luck played a role.

Despite the prominence of Lady Luck, the first victor of the sixth District, kind of felt, off. There are times when her victory doesn't seem worthwhile, especially in the presence of the dozen time killer or any of his victorious tributes, and even less worthwhile in the presence of the crafty Burell or the hot yet damaged stud that is Streak. Yet, Streak and Burell would prove to be her best friends, they had the lowest kills beside her and felt shafted.

In a way, luck was there even before the reaping. Irumn Ferl's mother was a morphling dealer, and her father one of those corrupt peacekeepers easily swayed with a joint. It was a miracle that Irumn would eventually be the only District 6 victor before the third quarter quell not to be addicted to the poisonous grasp of morphling. And with what happened to kill her parents, namely a morphling explosion that took out most of the block, she never even considered morphling.

The explosion occurred when she was ten years old, she was in their house, one story, three rooms, typical of District 6, but just close enough to the door to run out when the fire began to spread. The burns that danced across her wrists and calves never left her, and neither did the memory of the explosion. "Please," she begged on the streets. "Let me in, I have no one."

A man took her in, just a man, very old with grey hair and eyes, and he lived in one of the bigger houses, one floor yet with two bedrooms, a kitchen, a den, and a bathroom. "Who are you?" he asked as he pulled her in.

"I-Irumn Ferl, my mother made morphling, and my dad was a peacekeeper. They loved me but they loved their jobs more," she shivered out.

"I don't go to school often, my mom wants me to deliver morphling when dad can't." "What happened to your parents?" the man asked.

"Fire...just boom, and I barely escaped but, I'm hurt," she tearfully explained. "I-I-I h-haven't had any of their d-drug, but I know what it smells like, and.-"

"That's enough," the man said in a stern yet calm voice. "You can stay with me. I know what it's like to lose family to morphling." "What happened?" she asked.

"My daughter overdosed, and so did my wife. My son died because of fumes. But, I won't have much for us to eat, I'm too old to work in the factories and there are only so many janitors for the civil buildings," the man apologized.

"I can do it, I'll get a job Mister…"

"Ford. I don't want you working too long, just enough for your food, don't worry about me, I'm at the end of my life, 55 years can do that for you."

Mr. Ford grew to love the girl, and Irumn grew to love the man. They were as close as a normal father and daughter, which made it even more heartbreaking as she was reaped alongside a wiry boy named Yugo Harris. "I'm goign to lose you," Mr. Ford weeped in the Justice building goodbye room.

"No," Irumn said in a whisper. "I'll be back." 'But that's impossible!" he exclaimed. "We don't have fighters here, we're the weakest District in Panem, we don't make it to the end, we can barely kill!"

"Then I won't," she said with a tear falling down. "I'll wait until the end, I won't kill, and there are others who can do that for me." By all standards, Irumn was a typical District 6 tribute. A six in training, a mediocre interview, not that gorgeous-especially compared to the rather endowed girl from District 1, so she didn't get many sponsors before the games. However, when the pedestal rises in the indoor arena, she knows that she has a chance. Outlying Districts have all won the indoor arenas, at least as far as she knew with Trusty and Woof, and this casino resort could help. The gong rings and a little more than half the tributes run for the supplies in the middle, but Irumn and the others scatter into the expanse of the resort, weaving in and out of the maze of slot machines, poker tables, and the like. She bumps into the girl from District 11, Annaline, but she's unarmed. "I-I-I don't want to kill you," Irumn pleaded.

"I don't either," the girl admitted. "For today, allies?"

"Yeah," Irumn shakily said. No sooner had they gotten up that the cannons began to sound. "I counted eight, you?"

"Same, I wonder who they were. Have you seen a boy? Dark skinned like me?"

"I thought I saw him run into the cornucopia," Irumn admitted.

"I didn't go in because the supplies were unusually sparse for this year. It was just weapons and tiny packs."

"Then the rest of the food is around this arena," Annaline deduced. "Let's look for today, maybe there's something here for us to eat besides metal."

There was, but it was locked behind a large slot machine, on one of the higher floors. "How do these things even work?" Annaline asked.

"Pull the lever, if the symbols on the wheel match up then you get a jackpot, I assume that if we do pull the lever then something will happen," Irumn explained.

"How do you know this?"

"District 6 is kind of illicit, my adoptive father has one of these that he uses to scam others," Irumn admitted.

Annaline looked at the machine wearily. She moved over to the large lever and grabbed the lever. She pulled it quickly and let the wheels inside spin. Bomb-Bomb-Bomb. Without much warning besides the beeping klaxon, the machine exploded, scattering shrapnel elsewhere. Several pieces of glass ended up in Annaline's face ended up covered in dozens of these shard, a particularly big and bloody one lodged itself in Annaline's neck. She pulled it out uneasily, having enough time to say one phrase before dropping dead. "You bitch." A ninth cannon sounded that day,and Irumn scoured the place for more food and water.

She found another large slot machine and won five apples and a water bottle before it engulfed itself in flames. The anthem showed nine faces, the two tributes from District 3, the two from District 5, Yugo, the boy from District 8, the two from District 9, the boy from District 10, and Annaline.

As it would end up being in the casino, at least 6 tributes would end up dying to the slot machines, including the boy from District 4.

Irumn found another girl five days in the arena, when there were 10 left. It was the girl from District 12, armed with a ruthless dagger and spear. She chased Irumn through the fourth floor, in and out of rows of slot machines, this time activated with a simple push of a button. She pressed the buttons as she ran past the machines, hoping for something to fall out, but ended up falling flat with the sound of an explosion. A cannon sounded, signaling the girl from District 12 was now dead. Irumn walked to the corpse uneasily, carefully picking up the red hot dagger. She allowed herself ten seconds of laughing, maybe because the girl from District 12's corpse looked just so funny before running in terror from the spreading fire.

The games lasted for five more days, when on Day 10 there were only three tributes still in the arena, two of them being careers and the other being Irumn. The gamemakers powered the slot machines again, rigging it so that they would now spill mutts-mice and birds and squirrels and dogs. The three ended up in the cornucopia floor, where scorch marks painted the ground and a wall of slot machines lined the remainders. "Here I thought we were actually going to have to struggle," the boy from District 1 replied cockily to the girl from District 4. "Two of us on the runt then each other, Apollo?" the girl asked her fellow career threateningly.

"Agreed, Britannic," he replied. They turned to Irumn, who backed up in fear against one of the slot machines. By the embossed lettering, she could tell that it disposed weapons, mainly weapons, and could fire for an explosion. The careers had nothing but melee weapons, a sword and a club, but they were much bigger and stronger than she was. They approached her together, lavishing the imminent kill. She dove through an open gap as they raised their weapons, scampering for the other side. A club swing triggered the reels to spin,but they barely noticed it as they chased after the girl. She ran across the perimeter, deploying the slot machines just in time for the first one to finish.

Bomb-Bomb-Bomb, Bomb-Bomb-Bomb, Bomb-Bomb-Bomb, three of the machines read. It was enough, and the explosions immediately knocked the three of them to the floor. Brunette beauty Britannic was the closest to one of them, and with a dozen shards through the back of her head. The cannon fires for her. The two left- Apollo and Irumn would prove to engage in what was a disappointing battle. Apollo charged at the girl from District 6, mighty sword held high on his head, but she was low and grabbed at his ankles. He fell in front of another machine, unscathed from the triple explosions, and a brick fell out. It landed on his head, and the boy was dazed. Easily Irumn wrenched the sword from his hands and slit his throat. It took two minutes for the cannon to go off, and Irumn Ferl became the first Victor from District 6.

"Ah, Ms. Ferl," the president said as she walked in the room. "Congratulations on your recent victory. It wasn't what any of us expected, but you had us all on our toes." "T-Thank you sir," she said in a near-whisper. "We haven't had a lot of people who thought you would have won, but those who did are extremely loyal, surely a date with one or two would be fine." The look in the president's eyes was something that echoes in the street of District 6, from the corrupt peacekeepers, to the mayor at times, even Mr. Ford at points.

"It would be foolish to let them go unthanked," she replied, realizing that if she said something wrong then it would be her head on a platter.

"I'm glad you agree with my sentiment, it's been nice to see such compliant victors. Such _Lucky_ ones. Very well, that's all I have to discuss, enjoy your party, Ms. Ferl."

"T-thank you sir," she said in astonishment. "I hope this ensures the protection of a one Mr. Calico Ford?"

"Ah, yes, the old man you consider your father. Don't worry, he's taken care of." Irumn could barely enjoy her party after the last statement, dread filled her thoughts as she wondered about her father, alone in Victor's village, no one with company, so easy to go missing. It was all for naught, and Mr. Ford was back in his basement, playing the slot machine, something that Irumn could no longer look at without fear of an explosion.

He would live a happy life, play the rebellious and sneaky grandfather to the two boys, and they would play slots, but oh so quietly, because Mom would get headaches as the klaxon rings. The two boys, products of Irumn and her three year long boyfriend, would never understand why Mom gets scared of slot machines so easily, but more fun for them. It would be until one of them gets reaped.

 **Hey guys Hopps here,**

 **Bikaran you guessed correctly! District 6 is the last district to get a victor before the quarter quell. Sorry to any District 12 and 5 fans, but they'll get theirs soon enough. Just Maybe after the quell. Up next, two career victories. And as of this point, I want to explain that I will have the careers win at least once a decade, but their victories could be hunger games 51 and 69 (but it's not, this is just an example), which is my personal headcanon. In order of power, it's District 2, District 1, District 4, then interchangeably 7 and 9, then 11, then 10, 8, 3 and 5, 6, and 12. Just so you know Hopping out Hopps**

 **Ps. Please review, I really appreciate it**


	23. Perry Tryphus

_**Victor #23:  
Name: Perry Tryphus  
Age during Games: 18  
District: 04  
Games: 023**_

 _ **Death: 094, Emmeline**_

Stopping in District 2 on his victory tour was what he was most excited for. Perry was the first tribute to make double digit kills since Lupus himself, and in private he practically worshipped the man. He learned of the Hunger Games when he was young- five years old and was enamored with the lap of luxury the victors found themselves in. They all seemed to be very happy. His favorites were Lupus of course, but also Mags and Leopold, so bold in their victories and brave, they set the trend for the careers.

It's why he's honored that Mags chose him to mentor for his hunger games. He trained in the training center, now relocated outside on the comfy secluded beaches, and rose to the ranks. It was small wonder he was chosen as the first priority victor for District 4, his unorthodox skills in the double edged sword and shield proved to be his advantage, both in the tryouts and in the games. He had 10 kills to his name, two of them his fellow career boys, Hercules from District 1 and Titan from District 2, the girls from Districts 5 and 9, the boys from 6 and 7, and both tributes from 8 and 11. He has the record in District 4, usurping it from Current Ripper, the victor of Hunger Games 10.

The trainees he has, all fifteen of them, are vicious and ready to fight. He prepares them for the games, twisting the games into a beautiful net cast out in the open, ready to reap the rewards. "Hello Mags," he says warmly as his mentor, still beautiful after several years after her victory, the effects of motherhood barely leaving a dent on her smiling face.

"Hey Perry, District 5 kind of took it out on you, huh?" she asked. They sat in the District 4 train's common room, where photos of their families, Torrent's wife and newly born son, Current and his nieces and nephews, Mags and her adopted son and natural daughters and massively numbered siblings and husband, and Perry with his girlfriend, Amanda, stood erect on the mantle as the fire gently roared. "Good thing you didn't kill any from District 3, who knows how Burell would have reacted."

"Didn't think they'd freak out so much over my mentioning Lianne's death," he mumbled, taking a cup of decaf and sipping it tightly.

"In most Districts, they hate us. District 5 especially, just be glad we aren't District 2 or 10 in that regard, because-"

"They got second place the years Districts 2 and 10 brought home a victor," Perry completed. "With Delly taking it kindly during 8, I kind of let my guard down."

"Delly ostracizes herself far too often. She still believes that karma is biting her for when she killed the four boy in her games, and she's nice to everyone," Mags explained. "She gave you Platypus, long endangered but there's an exhibit in this somewhat hidden Capitol Museum."

"Really? I'd just have to see. Why does Delly give us animals?" he asked.

"It's art, the victor's lounge tapestry, she paints it, adds to it every year. Sometimes she works with Razer-"

"Razer?" he asked in shock. From what he saw of Razer's games, the victor killed Delly's girl, and he thought that the District 8 victors were hostile about it. At least, until he met Delly, but Woof did little to disprove his initial thoughts.

"Yeah, good looking, your height, darker hair, lighter skinned? Victor of Hunger Games 16? That should be familiar to you. He's very awkward in real life, his silent but deadly act is simply because he's awkward."

"Did not know that," he said, genuinely impressed.

"It's a knack for finding things out, I'm one of the lucky ones who has it. Tell me, do you happen to know anything about the Philippines?"

"Phili-what?"

"Exactly. It's an old archipelago, existed at about the same time as the old American civilization. My name, Magaling, apparently means something in their native language. Who knows what that is?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Razer asked me if I was Filipino. Ah but enough about him, I actually have a lot of dirt on the victors, including myself, not that they know, and not that you'll know all of them," Mags said with a sly grin.

Just then the escort, a happy go lucky woman named Ismay, popped in the room. "We're coming up on District 2, it's beautiful in its own right, you should really check out the view," she said before moving to the bedrooms to prepare their clothes.

"She's said that about every single District," Perry said with a shake of his head.

"Ismay's not wrong, but she needs to work on her vocabulary," Mags agreed. "But District 2 is a career District, like us, and they're the most powerful five-"

"Five victors to our's and District one's four," Perry repeated. "They're miners, aren't they?"

"Yes, it's how they get strong aside from the training. But they're also supplying the nation's security. Though I hear they're lax in 12. Not that I'm complaining, they're lax with us too," she said. "Go get ready, she's probably prepared the clothes for you. District 2 has a display of staged combat turned into a dance if you can believe that, and dinner, it's what it is."

Perry stood up from the comfy chair in the main room, thanked Mags and left to his room on the right side of the train car. He put away the open box of knitting supplies that came in a turquoise hue under his bed-Delly got him into that- and left to take a brief shower. "You're about to meet him," he said to himself as he lathered his hair with shampoo that smelled remarkably like a peach. He dropped the bottle absentmindedly, and the noise interrupted his inner joy at meeting the first victor- one of his heroes, with the words of the tributes he killed.

" _After two nights ago, it came down to this," Hercules said with a tired voice._

" _Best of luck to you, two timer," Titan told him respectfully._

 _The arena this year was in District 4's favor, and a gang of outliers decided to take advantage of that by dispatching the tributes from four this year. There were three of them, the tributes from 8 and 7 jumped Perry and Harbor as they gathered materials. Harbor was taken down quickly with a well placed stab wound, but not after she killed the girl from District 7, and Perry took out the others, letting the pool of blood run down the slanted floors of the derelict ship. "No…" the boy from District 7 pleaded as Perry swung his sword on him._

He snaps out of it, washes the shampoo from his hair, does a quick body scrub before wrapping himself up with a towel, and steps out to the warm bathroom air. He fixes his hair, spiking it up in several well placed tufts, and picking up the shampoo bottle from the shower floor as he dresses. He grins cockily at himself, the gorgeous District 4 tribute, as per norm for District 4 workers. He worked on trawlers when he wasn't training, and he and his brother were often deployed on one of those keel boats to get rid of the larger prey, turtles, sharks, squid, tuna, the usual. He knows how to use a spear alongside his natural proficiency with the double bladed sword, it helped him in the final battle against the outlying boy from District 7. "You look so.. _ravishing!_ " Ismay trilled as she walked in.

"Just let me put on my coat and we'll get out," Perry chided. There were points where escorts just didn't know their boundaries, and he was grateful that Ismay would be sent off to another district after this. An escort can choose to leave the district they were assigned to for another district if their previous district had a victor during their escort-ship. She already escorted Districts 1-4, getting a victor at least once, District 6, 8, and 10. Word had it that if an escort escorts a victor in all 12 Districts, they'll be retired with all honors. She openly plans on moving to District 12, then 5, then 7 and 11, but will, in her words _Miss the beauty of District 4 and its tributes!_

They pull into District 2's station as soon as Perry steps into the hallway, and once Perry steps outside he's moved into an armored truck, with gyroscopic technology that will protect the occupants in the event of an avalanche. It takes him down into a mountain valley, where the stage is set up and the crowd is waiting. He looks down from the stage at Titan and Rhea's families, seeing their little siblings, the oldest looks barely 14 and the youngest, not more than 5, where the families stand under their relative's portrait.

By now the speech is ingrained into his mind and he adds tidbits about Titan and Rhea's partnership through the arena as they eventually whittled to just the five careers and the boy from District 7. He risks cracking a joke about Titan and Rhea, and turns around to see Lupus, Titan's mentor actually smile and Cleopatra, the first female from Distrct 2 to win, mirror that smile. He leaves the stage to respectful applause, and turns to a blubbering Ismay. "Ismay, I did what you told me to, it was a cinch," he reassured her.

"Oh I know, but my makeup is running and the party is in three hours!" she whined. "Ah well, we have a strict schedule to meet up, and photo opportunities with the five victors! But I'm sure under your dazzling leadership that we'll get up there with them soon, or you will."

The photo session goes by quickly, those in the 'Peacekeeper preparedness community,' as the District 2 training center is known in the other outlying Districts, meets the boy from District 4 warmly, and he engages in their activities, rock climbing, combat, and oddly enough, singing. Razer, the victor from 7 years ago, pulls Perry aside and gives him a small bottle. "From the headmistress and master," the label on the box read. He opens it up to find a fine white whistle. He tests it out and lets the clear noise ring through the underground center. "Thank you," Perry says gratefully. The silent victor gives a small nod and a small smile before disarming a trainee creeping up to him with a blunt sword.

To his surprise, Lupus, an inch shorter than Perry is but likely twice as massive, was the next to greet him. "Mr. Tryphus, I've heard a lot about you," the victor tells him. "It's a pleasure to get to talk to you here."

"The pleasure's all mine," Perry exclaims. "Sir, I'm actually a pretty big fan of your leadership, bringing in Romulus not half a decade after your own win, and having the kill record even past two decades. You're the biggest inspiration other than Mags and Torrent and Current in District 4."

Lupus takes a moment to regard Perry with an inquisitive look. "Ah," he says after a while.

"I'm glad that I got to participate in the games, alongside with the tributes that I'm sure you mentored with grace and finesse," Perry said gratefully.

Once again, Lupus looked over the victor from District 4 with a contemplating glance. "It seems that of all victors that came from District 4, I'd be most willing to walk and talk with them. Come, Perry, I'm sure you just want some one on one heart to heart with your hero, as you described me." Perry's eyes widened and he glanced to Ismay and Mags, currently preoccupied with each other and Lumin of District 2. "She won't mind, Mags needs to talk to her about today, we'll have our own conversation in this little nook I discovered several years ago."

The walk they go on takes them through Victor's park and into a secluded garden. Perry stumbles over a discarded brick as he gawks at the five statues, lining a massive fountain in the middle as they all gaze at it with mighty weapons drawn. "I take the careers who won to talk here, it's peaceful isn't it?" Lupus asked in response.

"It is," Perry agreed.

"The first person I've ever talked to over here was Torrent, second victor. Talking with him made me realize the mistakes I made. I tried to save two people those games, Tungsten and Therod. The nightmares about their deaths didn't leave me for a while, and Torrent said he couldn't live with himself."

"How did you reply?" Perry asked quietly as he gazed over a floating butterfly.

"I said he wasn't alone, that there were worse things in the world, killing both mousey tributes from District 3, just to add to your already three kill record. Eventually the blood flew and I added more to the widening river, ending with a dozen dead in my hands. I don't want any of my tributes to end that was, not dead, but not killing as many as I did either," Lupus explained. "If I'm being a bit hard on you, I'm sorry."

"Mr. Marterus, I should be apologizing. I didn't know," Perry replied.

"No one does, and I can only hope that those double digit victims don't haunt you. Everyone's haunted by the arena, especially those who sat back and watched. You may not have noticed but Streak is a victim of too many plastic surgeries. He has an image to keep up, but they remind him of the time in that garden maze. Every time I talk to a career like you, I try to humble myself, keep the same from happening to you, but if we're going to be friends, think of me not as a hero."

"I can do that," Perry said in determination.

Lupus smiled for the first time through their conversation. "I value camaraderie, it's why the victor's lounge exists. We know our struggles, and we support each other. Come on Perry, I think you have a dinner to attend to."

 **Hey Guys Hopps here  
Congratulations Bikaran! You guessed two victors in a row. Hard to believe that soon we'll be in the quarter quell, which will be up by this weekend if I don't get it done this week. The arena may be a bit underwhelming in comparison to the next one, but even if I mention the arena in the next chapter (who will be a career victor). Now, about Perry the platypus (HAH!), this feels like the longest chapter I've written, and if it is, I'm sorry. My District 4 bias might be showing. Anyways, I need names, so if you have a list, feel free to send it to me or leave it in your review. And speaking of, please leave a review. If I'm getting too predictable, sorry, there's only so much individuality in the world, but it really helps me write.  
Hopping out  
Hopps**

 **PS. THANK YOU GUYS FOR 1000 VIEWS! I CAN'T THANK YOU ENOUGH, BIKARAN, CHEIVE, JULIANA, ZULERA, AND ANY OTHER GUESTS, THANK YOU!**

 **PPS. THE NAMES CAN COME FROM ANY DISTRICT, I ONLY ACTUALL DISTRICTS 9-12 WITH NAMES SO, IF YOU LIKE, LEAVE A SERIES OF NAMES AS HELP**


	24. Onix Mintus

_**Victor #24:  
Name: Onix Mintus  
Age during Games: 18  
District: 02  
Games: 024**_

 _ **Death: 4th Quarter Quell**_

The blade strikes the air around me, swishing in front as it fiercly moves around my head. Before I know it the victor of the 16th hunger games, Razer Castle pins me against the floor at sword point, glaring at me with vivid eyes that I'm sure want to kill me. "Get up," he coughs, holding his relatively small hand against me. "Swords are your weak point, and I know that District 1 specializes in that and maces. You won't always get a shield in the arena."

"Understood, Mr. Castle," I respectfully say. "What else is on my plate for today?"

"Axes," he replies curtly. He doesn't talk much except when training, but he's analytical and knows all the risks that the Districts have if we have to come up against them. He nods his head over to the large leaflet on the wall, the one with each weapon that the 12 districts are known for using and what counters it. I find the axe, a favorite to District 7 but simple enough for other tributes to use.

"District 7- Acacia Quills of Hunger Games 5, 18 years old with five kills, first girl to win," I repeat to myself as Razer tosses me a pair of axes. "And Streak Virous, 18 years old with 3 kills, Hunger Games...17, the year after you."

Mr. Castle nods in approval and leaves the room, opening the door to Cleopatra. Anatullah, victor of Hunger Games. "Thank you Razer. Lumin is about to start her class on shield play, she needs an assistant and prefers you," the woman tells him.

"She knows I'm uh...not Gilbert, doesn't she? It's been three years, she should know that," Razer stumbles as he asks the question.

"Trauma takes a long time to heal. I don't really see it, but-"

"I won't fuss over it," Razer says as he pulls the door shut.

"Onix Mintus," Cleopatra says loudly in the empty gymnasium. "Five foot eleven, 178 pounds, five percent body fat."

"That would be me," I reply.

"Double axes," she murmurs. "This is the first day I'll be working with you, I assume Razer told you about the rotation."

"Yes ma'am," I reply. Today is my day for the five victors to have their one hour sessions with me, and the first from what I know. There are three contenders for the boys, me, my cousin Orion, and another boy named Terrex. If I go in, I'd be the second Onix to go in the games, the first was in the 22nd Hunger Games, where both our tributes fell at tenth and sixth. The crown went to District 6 that year, something that most of us are truly bitter about.

"You'll train with Romulus next, he's the one who knows the most about sickles. Show me what you've learned with double ax stance." Cleopatra wheels a training dummy with one of those electronic meters on it, developed from District 3 for the purpose of peacekeeper training, and tells me to begin at ready stance.

I do as she says, holding an axe at face level laterally and the other high above my head. She gives me a few pointers as I work on my swing-keep my elbows in, blade out, clench with a fluid grip. After several decent swings against the dummy, Cleopatra pulls me back and asks me how I thought I did. "I know I can improve, but from the looks of it I'm a natural," I reply a little confidently.

"Don't get too confident," she interjects. "The tributes from District 7 are beasts with an axe, if I need to replay the District 7 games just for you then I will."

"Understood, Ms. Anatullah."

"I'll fit you out with several different axes soon, but more importantly, you need to know how to counter the ax." Cleopatra pulls over the weapons rack and draws one that's typical of the games. "Most District 7 citizens use this type of axe, note the rough edges of the handle and the elliptical blade. More than likely, this is going to be in the cornucopia, take out District 7 before they get their hands on it, even if they're 12."

"12?" I ask incredulously.

"Four isn't the only district where the kids start working. So Come on, an hour of fighting against this one and you'll be approved for survivalist training with one of our trainers." The hour passes by quickly, the blade scuffs my shoulder pads more often than I would have let it, but after an hour I'm passable enough to be mistaken for a District 7 tributes. "Alright, and that's 50 minutes off of the hour. You look tired, we'll stop now. I'm rooting for you to become our tribute."  
"Thank you, Ms. Anatullah, it's an honor," I reply. "What about Orion and Terrex?"

"No offense to your cousin, but he's still kind of off about his sister dying last year, and it wouldn't be of the safest bet. Terrex, he's quite frankly, too gorgeous for the games, something will happen to him like it did with Streak," she explains. "I'm not technically supposed to tell you this but they sell the victors, it kind of hurts the family dynamic. Streak, who was the most handsome gorgeous tribute of his year and fell to plastic surgery after, to keep up an unstable image. Sorry for my tangent, but you're going to go to Room eight, the forest area, and from what the trainer tells me, that's where training for today will be."

"And I suppose I'll be going up against Terrex tomorrow?" I ask.

"We won't have you fighting the other chosen until next week, we need to run it by on Perry's victory tour," she replies.

"Understood. I'll see you tomorrow," I curtly reply. She smiles quickly before turning to keep the rest of the supplies, whispering something to a person she calls 'Simmone.' It isn't until I turn the first hallway en route to room 8 when a closet door opens for me, and a pair of soft hands drag me in and sidle me up against the hard wall of the closet's interior. "Come on Ridian, I can't stay for long," I whine playfully.

She traces her finger over my chest, rolling it up to my cheek where Ridian tickles it playfully. "You know I be without you for long, and it's just survival training," Ridian says as she cradles against my torso, rolling her soft luscious hair against my shoulder. I pull my head down and give her a kiss, bringing her forward as I keep my lips locked in hers. "And here I thought all this training was keeping you stiff."

"You're one to talk," I say as I break from her for a while. "Sounds like your peacekeeper dad has been hard on you."

"Tell me about it. I suppose your brothers are all the more loving, but I can't keep you for long, can I?"

"Sorry love, but you understand don't you?" I ask, nibbling on her earlobe.

"Just be sure that when you rock the training, you thank me, and bring us another victory," she says cheerfully.

She heads out of the closet first, darting across the hallway to get to her swimming practice session, and beckons me to come out. I glance up at the clock and am relieved that our time together was only 7 minutes- meaning I have still three to get to survivalist training. I don't know what to expect when I walk into the room, so I especially am taken aback by the collapse of several trees in front of me and the roar of a tsunami barreling down a slope. I cough out the water from my mouth and realize that this is going to be a long hour, the eccentricity of survivalist trainer Everest can only do so much to lengthen this hour.

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here.  
I know this isn't up to snuff of my other chapters, but I wanted a brief look in the day of a nominee, and Onix was the perfect person to do so. Anyways, this is just one more roadblock on the way to the quell. I have District 9's names in, and the careers, but feel free to submit any kinds of names up for consideration. I'll keep track of them and maybe use them in later chapters. Also, how's Onix? I know his chapter isn't the best (kind of like Legume in a sense) but I kind of hit a block and...sorry. I hope you like him  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	25. The first Quarter Quell

_**Quarter Quell 1:**_

 _ **Hunger Games 25**_

 _ **Victor Death: Hunger Games 090, Ketrin**_

The new year officially begins when the victory tour concludes, and this year Panem celebrated the sixth District 2 victory, much to the general chagrin of the lesser Districts. Most uprising came from Districts 5 and 12, the only Districts at this point to not have a victory. Despite 5 having come close on numerous occasions, they have yet to prove their mettle against the rest of the 12 Districts. The story in District 12 was an entirely different matter, their tributes were rarely strong and rarely survived the rest of the first three days from hunger. Needless to say, their anger was tacit as Onix visited these Districts. Most in the Districts have given up on bringing home one of their children, but there were a few sparks, angry sparks who fought in rebellion.

It is because of these sparks that the President, in addition to welcoming in the new year, reveals another aspect of the Treaty of Treason in the midst of Onix' victory party. "In lieu of the Dark Days, and remembrance of the fact that it was wholly the decision of the Districts to rebel, the next tributes for the first quarter quell, which is to be held every 25 years onward, shall be selected not by randomness, but on the will of the District citizens," he explains to the booming crowd.

In the homes of Panem, lights slowly dimmed down, the true severity of the quell now sinking in.

 **Five minutes after the announcement**

"Wolf," Aurora Mustang said concerned to her husband.

"Rory, it's late, and we'll talk about in the morning, with Leo and Leif and Daphne and Radiance, I'll tuck in the kids now," Wolfgang Mustang told his wife. He kissed her forehead softly and grabbed their children, three rambunctious scamps playing with blocks and swords on the floor with Aurora's beautiful platinum blond hair and Wolf's striking emerald green eyes.

 **One hour after the announcement**

The four victors at home in District 2 call a late night meeting. "Tell them already," Lupus speaks up. "They need to know tomorrow, and with Onix we'll talk about the rest."

"This is going to interfere with our plans. Isn't our front runner Argon?" Lumin asks.

"Then we'll have them vote for them, and we'll talk to Razer and Onix once they get here about this. I propose we pick six tributes each then we deliberate and let the institution know that they should vote for them," Romulus chimes in. He speaks in a hushed whisper, they're talking in the courtyard in the center of the entire village, and their families-Romulus has gotten himself a girl in the past year and they have two children of their own, the same having occured with Cleopatra and Lumin and Crista. Still the gang of victors are lethal and respected through the District. "Goodnight everyone."

 **One Month after announcement**

Over the next month the people of District 3 flock to Burell's house, and ask him for advice. The 22 year old is overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people asking him to ensure that their children won't be reaped, who to vote for, and others getting him on their side. He shuts himself in his room, far more often than he usually does, and he does quick searches on the kids the district wants to vote for. The most likely candidate is a girl named Candace Filcher, one of the hackers who knows when to blow things up just when she wants to. She has a sister, Melanie Filcher, and a brother, Venton. He knows who to vote for after several more names jump out at him.

 **One and a Half months after the announcement**

In the private community of Victor's Village, Mags, the only girl of District 4 to come home as of late, calls her clan-already large enough for a large photo of them that is just as large as their fireplace and brings them to a private cove. "It's been two months since the announcement, we'll put in our votes now," she tells her family.

"Mom, why are we voting?" her adopted son, eleven year old Kazell, asks timidly. His sisters, Covine, Mariana, and Droplet silence him roughly, even at 6, 7, and 8 they are rowdy and it takes their father, Phineas, to pull them apart.

"Kazell, I wasn't referring to you, and you're too young to participate in the..congregation," Mags explains. "Phineas, it's our duty and we have to go soon."

"Do you want to go now? If I tell Seannessy and Sauvres to come right now then we have to wait to get some things right," Phineas worriedly asks.

"Just tell them to vote for Venice Arbell and Delliane Carfire," Mags tells him. Phineas resigns himself to call them on the victor's phone, and immediately he goes to the boat radio to contact his siblings on the sea. It's a foggy day today, but the lighthouse ought to-

"PHINEAS!" Sauvres screams into the phone.

"Sauvy, Sauvy calm down, what's going on?" he asks in a hurry.

"The lighthouse-it's out and we can't see and we've run aground and our ship is sinking!" she shouts

Phineas tells Mags and they tell their kids to wait in the houes before they go down to the pier. They see the S.S. Gull, all 500 feet of it, close to the shore and protruding out. "Get help," Mags tells her husband before they run into town, trying to wakeup whoever is available.

They lose five people in the sinking of the S.S. Gull, Seannesy and Sauvres are injured and their son is dead, along with most of its haul-several hundred pounds of shark, whale meat, and seal fat. "The lighthouse wasn't working…" the words spread like a hurricane. "The light wasn't turned on...dumb bitch left her daughter in charge…" It takes another week, but the District knows the consequences now, and they know who one of their tributes is.

 **Two months after the announcement**

As usual, the wards are overfilling with morphling addicts going through withdrawl. It's a very bad month indeed, as a good fifth of the patients have run in with some of the big gangs without their payments. A little boy asks his nurse if maybe he could draw. "Yes sweetie," the nurse says quietly. She gives him a coloring sheet and five colors, red, orange, yellow, green and blue.

He doodles aimlessly, coloring the sun red and the sky green and the grass blue, but the nurse looks at him sweetly even as he draws. The boy writes a name, Gary Flatts, and gives it to the woman.

"Is this your name, little boy?" she asks kindly.

"No...he killed my mommy. Can you vote for him?" the boy dully explains.

"Of course son," she says as she ruffles his head. He coughs slightly and the nurse tells him to go to sleep. It comes after a while, and she places the first vote of the District for Gary Flatts and a random girl. She wouldn't be the last for Gary Flatts.

 **Three months after the announcement**

As the workers move the cows from truck down to the slaughterhouses, there's a loud uproar. That girl, Mandie Zenshi, she's crazy, as the rumors go. She got kicked in the head when milking a cow when she was but seven, and at 14 her symptoms aren't going away. Her parents do little to help her, they are passive raisers, and don't participate in the slaughter of cows like a good percentage of the District. The girl sneaks off often, and today is just one of those days, she climbs in the driver's seat of one of the cow trucks and runs it into the open expanse, allowing the cows to roam in the distance. It's the ninth time she's done that.

Because of this, Nakata Fillfun cracks down hard on those in charge. He wields a whip, beaded at the end and curled to precision and sharp as teeth. The whip travels over the backs of ten men and women, the ones in charge of running the cow slaughterhouse. "PUNISH HER NOT ME!" a woman screams before she's knocked out with a taser. They're talking about the Zenshi girl of course, but the peacekeeper doesn't hold minors responsible. But the workers do, and his nephew is just perfect as the tribute for the 25th hunger games.

 **One month before the Hunger Games**

"No…they're coming." He's been repeating this for a long time. Ever since the quell announcement Streak slips into an episode: this time with the vote he's convinced he's going back in. "No… they'll take me."

"Streak, they won't take you," his mentor, a middle aged mother who won the games almost a decade before him, says reassuringly. He holds his head in his hands and lets Acacia hug him tightly. It's thier weekly routine, only now it's biweekly and every time he sees a child of age he stammers and stumbles over his feet.

"They'll feed them to the mutts... Little Aplist...No no no!" he shouts louder. He wants to tear his shirt off, tear his heart out of his chest, rip out every piece of synthol used to keep his rock hard abs rock hard since his games. He screams again, and all Acacia can do is lay him down. She'd call Steven and Savon, but they're in school, behaving politely as they can. With the quell, and them being of age, they could go in.

Acacia steps out Streak's house and leans against the wall, breathing heavily. She spots a kid running through the village and trying to knock on her door. She bolts for it as soon as she sees Acacia, running away in fear into the thick conifer forest. "Aplist," she murmurs. She recognizes the girl, the cause for her fellow victor's pain. Her vote is sealed.

 **A Fortnight before the Hunger Games**

Legume finds the two of them in his private orchards skimming the tops of his apple trees. He holds a pitchfork in ready position. He stumbles out of the house, big as he was during his games 19 years ago but not as fast. He catches the girl, about 15 years old from the looks of it, and she squirms in his hands and demands to be put down. He tells her to return the fruit to the ground so that they may grow, but she pleads. Legume relents only because he's getting tired of carrying her and sits her against the tree. She calls a boy down, her brother from the looks of it, and Legume demands an explanation.

"We just want to deliver food to their friends in the forest," the girl explains. They explain how a bunch of old travelers from a long place far off in the horizon wanted to leave, to start a life, to head to the lake of mystery. Legume knows these stories, and his years in Capitol beds let him know that some people crave adventure and possess a desire to break free. He lets them go to give them the supplies. It's the last he sees of the boy until the reaping, when he's called up as the male tribute.

 **Seven Days before hunger games**

The two from District 8 are psychopaths. The boy sneaks into Victor's village and draws away one dog every three weeks. He skins the poor canine and bathes in his blood. It's a small wonder when his name, Phillip Carlisle, is pulled from the ball. He steps out of the 12 year old section, gaunt and grim because maybe he slipped out of his cute child persona too often at school, and they're going to punish him by sending him with Pollia. Sometimes he saw her, taking a nice boy behind the trash and tying him up and then taking him in every which way. Every time Phillip saw her, he ran back to his home in the richer part of the District, using the dog matter to obscure his face. The next time he puts something on his face, it's his own blood at the feast in the hunger games.

 **Seven Days before the Hunger Games**

In District 5, there are no victors, one of only two left in Panem, they and District 12 are desparate. Without a doubt similar words are spread about their work places, get rid of the strong yet weird kids, we could bring one home, just don't make it weak. Their tributes chosen on the fateful reaping, a lazy boy who continually forgets to flip switch A to the negative, a pesky little girl who just raises too much hell for her supervisors and schoolmates, a boy who has an addiction to fire and the pain it brings, and a little girl who just happens to know too much, are terrible to say the least, no one from Districts 5 and 12 is coming home.

 **Seven Days before victory**

There's something about District 9 and cousins. The boy is a mutt hunter, like Gerrian Tomion the two decades before him, but he's also a thief, and he works with his cousin to shave the tops off of bags of bale to distribute to his foolhardy friends, where they burn it on the river, much like the pagan cults of old. This time, the boy dies during a feast and the girl cradles the body in her hands, but only briefly, she has a hunger games to win.

 _In what would be the most climactic hunger games yet, where the arena was a replication of a long gone yet prominent museum complex, an abnormally large amount of tributes would end up surviving the opening bloodbath. One of the largest features was the agricultural garden, in the center of the museum complex, and also functioned as a zoo to the two dozen mutts. The mutts were based off of the victors, much like the effigy mutts of the 17th Hunger Games, wandering through the museum on the prowl for several unwilling tributes. Yet the museum complex each had areas for their own climactic battles, through 18 museums over 15 days tributes would have had to endure_

 _As seen before, the cast of characters were truly diverse, from the girl who fixed the reaping to save her sister (as there was a no volunteering rule enacted for the quell) to the serial rapist, to the drug dealer, to the petty garden thief, to the gay boy punished for his father's mistake, to the pain loving sadist, to the almost paranormal seer, to the sleepy girl, to the sociopaths, to the devout vegan, all would perish except for one: The motherly lesbian with a heart of gold_

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**  
 **Well, here we are, the first quarter quell. I'm sorry if I didn't use the majority of names given this chapter but I'm planning to make fanfictions for every quarter quell in my fanon. Let me know if you think it's a good idea.**  
 **Now onto Maury, she's the first girl to win for District 9, and their third victor. I know the format may be rather scattered, but in writing this the style I ended up with was the most logical. I know that the characters may not have gotten a lot of development, but young Mammaw appears in this chapter! Ok besides her, I wanted to make this one where we see our old friends potentially move on, but there's just too much to talk about in regards to the quarter quell! Let me know if you guys are okay with this project potentially going on hiatus for a quell fiction, and if the quell fiction is something that you'd like to**


	26. Tody Geredine

_**Victor #26:**_

 _ **Name: Tody Geredine  
District: 12**_

 _ **Age during games: 17**_

 _ **Hunger Games: 026**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 055, Wiress**_

All Tody lets himself remember are three days of his Hunger Games. He refuses to remember being sent down the avenue clad in that half dressed wear designed to show off his remarkably stunning stomach that can only be obtained as a result of years of starvation, and to a lesser extent what was lower. The president said it best himself-District 12 was a District that did not hold itself well to sex appeal, but Tody only had to appear for commercials for men's body wash every so often, a small punishment.

Tody refuses to remember the night of the interviews, the day after he got a five in training, and he tried to divert the subject of the five from Ponicherry, without much success, and talked about his family dynamic. The words would bite him in the ass, when his father, a man of the mines decided to take his sister and mother to leave Victor's village, all because he decided to be a bit too honest about his parents' words, and how 13 year old Harper didn't deserve to hear those.

But he does remember the bloodbath, the 24 person melee that occured on a giant nook on the top of a mountain range, the arena clearly standing out from the Quell's arena the year before. There were 7 deaths that year in the opening bloodbath, same as last year, hell a career from the same District died in the bloodbath the year before. Tody killed the boy from 4 to save Nyelle, his 15 year old District partner, he threw the fisherman off of the cliff. Nyelle ran into the spear of the girl from District 2, lighting the mountain caverns with five others. He remembers their names-Cabel from District 3, Codette from District 3, Gillian from District 4, Orville from District 5, Adessa from District 6, Gattaca from District 6, and Nyelle.

His kill would be the only one for seven days. He lets himself remember the announcement for the feast, when there were 10 tributes left in the arena, including two careers. It was in the cornucopia, as always, and Tody meticulously snuck out of his concealed hiding spot, taking great care not to disrupt too many rocks for an avalanche. He remembers that, two careers and one outlier-he believes that she was from District 8 died in the process. He doesn't make it to the feast before a girl, the red hair designated her from District 5, runs into him. She's better fed than he is, from the looks of it, has a medium sized green pack and has a dagger for offense and a wrist cuff as protection. It does little to save her from Tody's wrath because he's been hungry for so damn long and the fear of dying only does so much to quench your hunger and… The walls are soon painted red because he threw the girl so hard against some stalagmites that it skewered her and damn near tore her head off. The cannon sounds, and Tody takes the pack, dagger, and cuff. He isn't seen until the finale.

And it would be a memorable one. Three tributes survive to this point, none of them careers, all from dark horse Districts, with only one or no victors. The girl from District 10 takes out the girl from 11, and is the last person separating Tody from victory. The fact still stands that she's 13 years old to his 17, and he's so much stronger. His dagger finds his way in her lungs, then her kidneys, then her throat. He wins after fighting for several minutes to become District 12's first.

Funny how trying to forget just so many deaths does the exact opposite. He considers it a terrible trait, how he remembers every single District 12 tribute who died under his mentorship. He would be the only mentor for 24 years, as long as Legume Nitrate would mentor before he pulls his first tribute out of the arena. Tody would be something of a dark horse victor, not that remembered especially as he was from District 12, preferring the company of Trusty and other similar victors. "I'm sorry I killed your girl," he apolgizes to Trusty when they first meet in District 10.

"She wouldn't have survived," Trusty says bluntly. "Besides, we typically don't hold our kills against each other. You did good, kid, trying to save that girl."

"It was hopeless, and she died in pain."

"No one can deny that people are in pain when they die, and it was better someone else than you," Trusty said as she sipped a glass of wine. "Burell and I were the youngest victors of our time, so it was a long shot to say that a 13 year old could make it."

"You were… how old again?"

"Fifteen, and so was Burell. We killed people, it's a fact of life as a victor. Glad we got to talk. I'm glad to be your friend too," Trusty said amiably. District 10 was the easiest stop on the victory tour, and one where Tody was sane.

Trusty would introduce him to several wine stores in the Capitol, and they would be some of the best sponsors for Districts 10 and 12, their support helping bring home several tributes over the period in which they would mentor. Sometimes, tentative alliances would form between the coal kids and the ranchers, only to be taken out by the careers. Trusty would be the first of the two to bring home a victor, a decade before Tody himself, and the pain would get to him. He drinks to forget, but he doesn't- if anything the drink helps him remember. This unfortunate trait would transfer to the victor of the second Quarter Quell, another District 12 tribute. Their combined alcoholism would do little to save Harper's child in the arena, who died in the arena, aged 15, hunger games 55.

Tody wouldn't have a child of his own, Victors from the 12 are usually reclusive, but the loss of his nephew would put him to the breaking point. Several days after a girl from District 3 wires a smokestack to collapse and release gases and comes home, Haymitch Abernathy finds his mentor strung up on the rafters. At his feet are a list of children he failed to save, on the list are Haymitch's girlfriend, Olive, brother, Campbell and mother. Haymitch tears it up and raids the cupboard of its alcohol, Tody won't need it anymore.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here.  
Honestly, I was pretty nervous writing this chapter, but the first victor from District 12 is an elusive figure, he was actually ignored with the memorials that appeared in the film series, making Haymitch the first Victor for District 12. This is partially why I wanted to rely more on book canon than movie canon, other than making District 4 a career District. So let me know what you think about Tody. How are his relations, I know it's kind of scattered, but I hope it's good enough  
Hopping out  
Hopps  
P.S. Any guesses as to when District 5 wins?**


	27. Mullen Jolts

_Just a quick warning, this is a revised chapter with a little more M rating that I think you expect_

 _ **Victor #27:**_

 _ **Name: Mullen Jolts**_

 _ **District: 5**_

 _ **Age during games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 027**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 087; Merit**_

There's only one thing all victors agree upon. There are points in the journey to make it home where you can never turn back, only move forward. Here is Mullen Jolts', District 5's very first victor, and his thresholds.

 **When his parents perished when he was 10 years old**

During the year of Hunger Games 19, with one of the more radical victories, uprest began to stir in Districts 3 and 5, the two weakest of the upper Districts. Mullen was the sole child of rebel masterminds, one of those who relocated power to the out-stations of the district, fueling the research facilities one by one. They slipped by the first execution, long enough to have Mullen.

They strike up old flames once more, with the District 3 boy blowing up the building synchronized to the pulses of electricity they send to these outposts, dead with a malfunctioning lever. A supposed accident, so to say. Young Jolts was sent to the community home, building a life for himself on tesserae in the little family that the community home built.

 **When he first met Kayden**

They were both community home children, she was 12 and he was 14. At this point he began to fill out, developing lean muscles typical of the electrical workers of the District, but finding his stability in the school system, becoming an excelling student. Kayden Penetritte, 12 years old but taking calsses two years ahead of her, found herself at the top of the charts with him. They had a friendly rivalry starting in an academic bowl, District wide. Mullen narrowly won, and stopped outside of the auditorium to talk with the runner up. Instantly they clicked, becoming something of a too dorky but still cute couple, cultivating their relationship with carefully researched facts and convoluted impedance equations.

He realized he fell in love with her about three months later, when they were walking through school, clutching books, when several bullies, each towering over the two of them, knocked them down with hurtful jeers. Just the look on Kayden's hurt face sent him into a spiral, recognizing the bullies as those from the community home, yanking tesserae from those half their size, just to fulfill their appetites. He's had enough, and of the older boys is on the floor, clutching a bloody nose while being choked out. One of the older teachers, one of the smartest teachers, stops them. There's a brief chat with him before he extends an offer for Mullen to join the wrestling team. He accepts, and it proves to be one of his saving graces

 **When he's reaped three years later**

The only universally applicable threshold for all victors is them being reaped or volunteering for the Hunger Games. The escort, a volumptuous woman named Acacia, in obvious tribute to the first girl to win, probably her birth year come to think of it, draws his name from the thousands of slips in the overflowing ball. When the name rings out, he's surprised yes, but not afraid. Mullen tilts his head upward, revealing something of a chiseled jawline under vibrant red hair and sly green eyes before moving outward, exposing his muscular frame to the cameras above him. His District partner is a 13 year old girl, with a pretty name- Maisy Ohm- already sobbing because as of last year, District 5 is the only District without a victor. Maybe it will change with Maisy's five and Mullen's eight, putting them on par with the tributes from District 7. He can't remember names for the love of him, but the outer districts look like they stand a chance against the careers this year. He has a lot of fans entering the arena, if that's a good or bad thing, he doesn't care. District 2, District 12, District 5, all of them would be fighting again.

 **Escaping the bloodbath**

The action of the Hunger Games begins during the 60 second countdown, enough time for people to blow themselves up, look around, or set their eyes on prime supplies, or intimidate the opposition.

The arena that year is tall, extending hundreds of feet upward in a circle in a massive mess of foliage and artificial ruins, probably another photogenic arena, like the museum or capsized ship, or the mountains the year before. The boy from District 2-the one who only got an eight despite his size, is on an adjacent pedestal, and shooting Mullen his best death glare. They are locked in a staring match before they break for the cornucopia, running to the same rack of spears and bag. Even if the District 2 boy is stronger, Mullen has become an adept captain, replicating Caleb Fullist's skills from over a decade ago, and wrestling the career to the ground before stabbing him in the heart.

Almost certainly, more tributes survive this bloodbath than they have in years past, 18 out of 24 tributes-the less careers signifying less deaths. There are several scuffs on his legs, which his cleans with his overshirt, a flamboyant yellow polo, and treats with his medicine kit in the bag. The boy from 2 is first up on the anthem tonight, "Maurius," Mullen whispers into the night. District 3 lost both of its tribute, as did District 6, and the boy from District 8 closes off the night.

 **First kill after the bloodbath**

It's generally established in the Capitol that kills made during the opening bloodbath don't affect the victors as much as later kills. This disincludes the first six games, which lasted for less than a day. A parachute falls through the sky on the fourth day, following the tenth cannon sound of the games, skirting across the opening to another tribute on the other side of the arena. Gingerly he follows it, clutching a rapier gifted by Capitol sponsors.

"Thank you, thank you," he hears ragged breaths spew out. It's a girl, older than 16 year old Kayden, but probably exhausted. He creeps around the corner, finding her holding a water bottle as she cleans a sickle. "Who's there?!" she exclaims with one of Mullen's footsteps.

She finds him, exposing muscled arms to the air amidst tears and stains, but he stands bravely against her, and they draw their weapons. It's a rather long duel, the girl from District 9 has bulked up from years in the field, but ironically enough, doesn't wield a scythe properly. Still, they're both disarmed soon, and enter a long winded melee that ends with District 9's head bleeding against the pavement from a rough fall. The cannon sounds after thirty seconds of bleeding, and Mullen stands over his latest kill, before jumping out hastily. He runs, grabbing his pack, and whispering one name through the arena, "Carson."

 **Alliances, before and after**

Three days after Carson's death, and two more cannons later, he runs into a girl, another one from the middle Districts, somewhat muscled but stuck in a trap. She's struggling, clearly, and beaten against the elements. Cautiously he walks up to her, and there's a pleading look in her eyes and-damn, he can't kill now. Not with two people's blood on his hands. Gingerly he unties her from her rope prison, and she collapses to the floor with a heaving breath and looks up at Mullen.

"Thanks, I guess," she replies awkwardly.

"No problem," he says, just as awkward. They stand for a tense minute, staring at each other, before being rudely interrupted by the war cries of two boys. "CAREERS!" he shouts.

They duck their heads as two tomahawks come flying to them, barely missing the tops of the skull. They look up again to find two boys, District 1 and 4, crazed, something is in the vents, everyone has that same odd look in their eye, but they're both lethal, and they try to rush the two of them with their swords drawn. "I have the brunette, you have the blond," she commands to Mullen. He nods, quick and simple, and they tear at them simultaneously, weapons drawn and determination high. The boy from District 1 falls ten minutes into their battle with a dagger at his throat, then Mullen helps his new found ally with the big boy from District 4. After struggling, he too falls with a blow to the neck, almost decapitated with an axe blow. The two cannons fire at the same time, rumbling the arena, and the girl from turns to Mullen. "Savon, District 7, 17 years old."

The name triggers an old memory, an interview perhaps, but he shoves it out of his mind and takes the girls hand. "Mullen, District 5, 18 years old. Allies?"

"Allies."

 **An unfortunate experience with District 4, putting it lightly**

Through the filler days, when the gamemakers finally give the tributes a rest, Savon and Mullen become good friends, it happens in tense situations. They comfort each other when Maisy's face finally shimmers in the sky, the youngest tribute in the arena to survive up to that point.

District 2's girl dies sometime later, and the allies are sent into the final eight. Mutt attacks, giant rats that once chased Caleb Fullist of District five and his ally are reused, and they're driven to a maze of pipe and steam. "Hold the bags," Mullen tells Savon. He grabs a knife, puts it in his pocket, and they move through the pipes uneasily, dragging against the puddles of water, before a stray weight knocks out Savon. He screams for her before being muffled, gagged, and driven to the floor.

His vision gets weary as he finds the last career, the girl from District 4, kneeling over him lustfully, crazily, and he tries to fight back but she's stronger than she looks and deals a blow to his head. He's disoriented when his hands are tied behind his back, and even moreso as she slices open his undershirt. She gasps almost animalistically, enamored with the chiseled torso below her, and licks it up, tracing his lean abs and prominent chest before holding him down with one hand while removing his pants. He lets out a muffled scream that's covered by her hand, and she finds it, massive even for a teenager, and she begins to have her way with it.

There's a frantic shout almost coming from everywhere, District 5, District 7, District 4, the capitol, and the gamemakers do the only thing they can, shock Savon up. She gets up groggily to find Mullen on the floor, undressed and manhandled by the crazed District 4 girl. She tackles her off of him, graciously avoiding his cock while they brawl. In the time it takes Mullen to recover, Savon is slammed against a pipe and is bleeding rapidly. In a craze he gets up, exposed to the elements without his clothes, and drives a dagger into the District 4 girl's back. He's still breathing rapidly when the cannons sound moments later, followed by packages of clothing, and he becomes blank, only uttering the names of those he killed. "Savon," he says when his ally stops breathing. "Laguna," he says with a spit. The District 10 boy days later, "Dayton." His final opponent, "Fred." He says it before their battle, a raw wrestling match without weapons, ending with the District 9 boy choked under him.

 **Meeting the Victors**

Though they schedule the victory interview almost three days after time in the ICU, they give him time to breath after, spent with the only ones to know his struggle, the victors. The first one to stop him is Burell, who gently introduces him to the lounge. He's a shorter man, but the smartest of the victors, and is still taller than Trusty when they make their way in. A drunken man, probably one of the career victors, flirts with him briefly before his lover takes him away. Then there's a rather short and smiling woman who gives him rhino related memorabilia, representing his charge through attitude.

Then there's one more, the first female victor. Acacia Quills, for whom his escort and mentor was named after, sits in a luscious arm rest, gripping the sides as Mullen walks up to the chair. Her friends, an older man from four, a handsome man from 7, and an acquaintance from District 9, try to stop her from running to him, but instead she gives him a hug, and they cry for Savon. "She was my daughter," she chokes out. "Reapings...they killed her, spared me but killed her. She killed, but she's my daughter, my only daughter."

He can't do much but to look her in her eyes. "She saved me in the arena from that girl from District 4," he replies with tears in his eyes. "I could only do so much to help. Thank you for raising a lovely girl."

 **Breaking up with Kayden**

Three years after his victory, he marries Kayden, but the memories of the Hunger Games still linger. He loves her and she loves him, but the chemistry is broken from his experiences with Savon and the girl from District 4. He's well endowed but they always make love in the heat, even in the summer, because he doesn't want to feel cold. He never finishes either.

Then there are the conversations. The once vibrant and factual teen she fell in love with becomes reclusive, dreary eyed and staring aimlessly at the nuclear power plants in the background. It dredges on for two years, but ultimately, she leaves him just before the reaping of Hunger Games 33.

 **Bringing his first tribute out**

In his final threshold before escaping Capitol eye, Mullen is an overworked man, relegated to his teenage years, much like other victors, but much quieter. He's come close on certain years but never far enough. His tributes have always died in the arena, without exception. Bulb was his greatest chance in the year before Hail's death, but it's no wonder he's feeling dull by the time a decade passes.

Yet a dozen years after a victory, a little track star, someone with enough wits to remind him of a girl he loved years ago, comes out of the arena after releasing a horde of lizards to devour the career supplies. She kills five to get out, and is almost inconsolable, but they click, and become the second victor relationship. It is at this point, the Capitol pushes him out of public memory and move on to that poor troubled boy who just lost his sister.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **I know this chapter pushes the T limit here and there, but this was the only way I could feel satisfied with this chapter after the disappointment I've published months ago.**

 **Anyways, this is the rewriting of Mullen Jolts, a broken man who happened to become District 5's first victor. I'll probably upload the original chapter as an unrelated oneshot, probably a draft chapter should I chose to rewrite any other chapters (highly likely too)**

 **Tell me your thoughts on him, and maybe favorite please?**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	28. Andromeda Fenwire

_**Victor #28:**_

 _ **Name: Andromeda Fenwire**_

 _ **Age during games: 18**_

 _ **District: 4**_

 _ **Games: 028**_

 _ **Death: Games 098, Penner**_

" **Even after years of training, there isn't going to be anything that you can say that you've totally prepared for," the desk secretary said to the young girl.**

" **Well I know that Miss, but I just want to go for the adventure," the girl with the long copper hair and striking algae eyes said to the receptionist. "Mom says I can't use her boat anymore."**

" **Is that so?" the secretary asked as she fixed her pair of spectacles. "I'll see what I can do. If one of our three victors wants you in, then you're in."**

Ten years ago. That's how long ago that conversation was, ten years ago. Adventure, young Andromeda called it. Adventure, something that it was and was not in many ways. She's kind of unstable, a plague that would additionally hit several other victors from District 4 in the years passing through. She doesn't like to close her eyes-the arena her year was much too dark to her liking.

It's why Andromeda spends time in the sun, just taking it all in. her arena that year was dark. Literally, a dark prison. The careers haven't exactly thrived in indoor arenas this year, and they suffered immediate losses when picking through their supplies and a beast-the only word to describe the creature, picked up the girl from 2 by the legs and threw her into the far walls of the arena. A girl from 7 who had evaded the watch of the careers as the bloodbath went on, helped deal the final blow to the beast, and for it she was in.

So long as Andromeda doesn't close her eyes then the beast won't get her, throw her into the ocean, lock her up with a key, and she can help Mags train the young ones in the training facility. They love her, of course, the preteens always seem to flock to her, and she teaches them in the graceful skill of tridents. Within years Andromeda becomes the head of the facility, what they call 'The Clam' down the rows.

When she closes her eyes, she's back in the arena, facing off against the boy from District 1, his gorgeous mop of blond reflecting almost unnaturally into their battlefield. He's gorgeous, like most of the other tributes from his district, and Andromeda's beautiful. The final two would be beautiful in their battle, elegant sparks chipping from their weapons, a trident and a sword, the footsteps being almost the only thing one would have heard in the arena, and the light green light that appeared as the fisher girl stood over the corpse of the luxury boy. His stomach was torn apart in three locations, each designating a hit where Andromeda stabbed him, several bloodstains up from the knees to the worst spot a guy could be hit, an eye discarded on the floor.

She wasn't in much better shape, having collapsed after the light came on, her foot having fallen to the floor, a canvas of blood appearing on her neon fitted arena uniforms, several slashes on her forehead down to her cheeks, a stab wound on her shoulder, a slice on her arm. It's why she doesn't condone torture that often, but knows it's necessary to appeal to the morons with her life in her hands. The usual gimmick of sexual activity was hindered by the darkness of the arena in its dark state, so heartfelt conversations were the way to go.

In a way, Andromeda is mute. A far cry from the girl 10 years before her victory, but she's rather silent, having mastered the art of unspoken communication with Razer Castle of District 2 a decade back. They relay messages easily, a blink over here, down there, to the right, and a shrug usually means they wonder if the food is great.

She doesn't reveal why she tries to remain silent, and it isn't as obvious as Razer's total social ineptitude, but Andromeda knows, and so does Mags. "You fell in love," Mags deduced in the infirmary just after her games.

Andromeda was weak then, weakened from all the blood, the darkness, the endless running, fumbling, and death. But she managed a meager nod and let tears run down her cheeks. "Why?" she choked out.

"Love is a harsh motherfucker and a mean son of a bitch," Mags said matter of factly. Andromeda had to make 8 kills to get out of the arena. The girl from 7 was her second to last, the easiest in one way but the hardest in another. They talked the most often, shared their foods, and in what darkness they had, made out. It would be the second year in a row that the girl from District 7 saved their ally's life, but at the cost of their own.

"Peca…" Andromeda coughed, remembering the girl from 7. Peca pleaded to her, told her to accelerate the wound inflicted by that stubborn bastard from District 8. Initially Andy refused, promising her that they'll get out, make it through, but the last gift Peca gave her was a kiss on the cheek before sliding out of consciousness. Andy repaid her, it was the only she could thank the girl she grew to love. Two cannons firing signaled that Andy's gift was successful.

"Hail has been feeling ill these past couple of days, and he wishes you the best of luck. He recognizes love when he sees it and won't pressure you until the year after next," Mags told her solemnly. "You are aware of the deal, right?"

"They're not Peca, and they won't be. I won't be satisfied," Andromeda said stubbornly.

"Keep that in mind, and rest up. It'll be awhile for you to heal."

'While' is an understatement. The cuts she received were patched up almost immediately, the artificial foot a blessing, and she was walking just in time for her interview. It's where it hurt most, so to say. She was the deadliest killer of the year- and it's what the capitol focused on, spinning the tale of love into just an easier way to score kill #7. After 16 days in the arena, 8 dead tributes at her heel, 7 dead mutts, they wouldn't recognize her love.

She'd fall in love in due time, but the new president would have her working hard, viciously. It's because of these memories that the only light she doesn't turn on is a gift from Acacia from District 7, kept pristine in a glass case and cushioned by navy blue pillows. She'd remember her, even if she doesn't say it, Andromeda will love Peca, and it's something the trainees would learn.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
Sorry for the bit without an update, I'm having to cram for an exam. But enough about me, let's talk about Andromeda. I know her chapter seems scattered, but I hope she's a strong victor worthy enough to join the family we all know and love. Also, gotta love Mags, and at least Hail isn't a total dick.  
Hopping out  
Hopps.**


	29. Adonis Platinum

**_Victor #29:_**

 ** _Name: Adonis Platinum_**

 ** _Age during games: 17_**

 ** _District: 1_**

 ** _Games: 029_**

 ** _Death: Games 0101, Lassy_**

"Ms. Ponicherry! Just one more touch up for you, then you'll be primed for your interview!" an intern hastily said.

The lead emcee for the Hunger Games turned around in her swivel chair. "Perfect, put it on right now, and turn up that air conditioning, it feels just like a desert!" She put on the eyeliner herself, opting to go for a bright shade of green to match their newest victor. He was a perfect role model just for District 1. "Tell me, have we got Adonis all prepped up yet?" she asked.

The intern nodded. He wouldn't be payed yet, but would move up in the ranks after this Hunger Games. "Yes ma'am, Leif is also being notified of the time we're to start right now, you have five minutes."  
"Thank you Caesar, go get ready, we need you just in case my cough starts acting up again," Ponicherry dismissed the young man. He had hopes, this one, and he only dyed his hair once a year, oddly enough, but had a keen eye to pick out the stand outs of the year from their reaping alone.

It was his first year he was able to determine a victor outright, and District 1 is always a safe bet, but Caesar knew that he was a stand out as the boy folded his glasses and put it on his shirt. "Ms. Ponicherry, Adonis is ready, we'll have you on stage soon," another intern, going by the name Martia Templesmith, as young as the tribute from 10 this year, 13 years old but a member of the media family powerhouse that is the Templesmiths.

"Ah, thank you Martia, I'll be down soon, tell Leif and Adonis that I'll be there," the emcee replied hastily, slipping the gir a cherry lollipop. She smoothened out the bright red coat that she usually wore for these interviews over her arms and left, letting Caesar pick up the fallen bottle of gin from her vanity, and strode out onto the stage. The lights flickered on and off in a testament to the ball lightning that surrounded the nightly atmosphere of the desert arena. "HELLO PANEM!" she said loudly. The live audience screamed loudly. "I'M PERRINE PONICHERRY AND THIS IS VICTORY INTERVIEW NUMBER 26! And what an interview it'll be! Down stairs we have District 1's latest, their newest boy, Adonis Platinum!" She gestured behind her to the massive screen, showing a compilation of the victor in his greatest, taking out two girls as they huddled under a rock, fighting bravely against the biggest underdog threat that year, the boy from District 9, and climbing out of the sinkhole where his former allies left him, climbing out to claim two more kills to become District 1's first double digit killer. "AND WHAT AN INTERVIEW THIS'LL BE! Without further ado, let's welcome our latest member of the family, ADONIS PLATINUM!"

The cheers erupted once more as the stage gave way to lift up the team in charge to present the newest victor, the escort was naturally the first to come up, a portly man going by Tryptophan, applying for transfer after this year, then Adonis' stylist, the classical Kimberly Beuxom. Soon to follow her is Leif Vanas, waving kindly to the crowd tiredly and sitting in one of the two chairs in front of Ponicherry. Finally, the elevator lifts once more to reveal the latest, a dashingly handsome young man who takes the glasses off of his face and throws it into the crowd, revealing his chiseled jaw and handsome square face. "Nice to be back, Ms. Ponicherry," he says cockily to her.

"It's nice to see you here, and I'm not the only one," she gestured to the large capitol audience, who cheered loudly in response. "Now, for my last games- calm down my friends, I'll still be alive-I'm glad that the victor was you."

"Well I'm glad to herald your last year with my victory," Adonis replied, briefly flashing the audience his wild smile they grew to love through the hunger games. With a glint in his emerald eyes he said, "I can only hope to make it back to the Capitol, such a lovely, place, such lovely people."

"And I'm sure that we can't wait to see you again. Well, enough chit chat for now, we have a replay to get through, and you're the main star, so get comfy and let's do the honors for you!" Once again the audience screamed their declarations of love to the handsome victor from 1, a commodity common from the District, as he reclined in his transparent silk shirt and waited for the three hour replay to begin.

There he was, the first star of the show, volunteering to save the life of a 14 year old son of the weavers and joining his partner, a radiant girl named Treasure, as they cheered out into the crowd. Highlights from District 2 and 4 showed, providing Draco and Ezrabeth as worthy opponents, alongside the loving goofballs that were Barrac and Amphitrite. The rest of the reapings flew by, occasionally showing the threats apparent in Districts 5, 9, and 10. At this point the video allotted for a screen that showed the live reactions of the team. Adonis smiled as the parade of tributes began, him clad in nothing more than a sash of gems and light covering where it wouldn't hurt his natural tan. Bare necessities was the theme that year, and it surprisingly worked for most, the girls from District 3, 5, and 8 and the boys from 11 and 12 notwithstanding.

Then it's another scene, Adonis' first interview with Ponicherry, straight after the heels of Treasure and playing the crowd, exposing his toned abs briefly much to the cheers of the female audience (and not a small amount of guys) while elaborating his skills with a dagger. "You'll see me again, Perrine, I didn't get an eleven for nothing," he says as his final words.

When the 24 tributes are catapulted into the sandy desert arena that year, water is the key factor for survival, and Adonis and the careers participate in the massive bloodbath that disposes of 10 wiry outliers. This is including the boy from 5, Adonis' first kill to claim the bounty of water at the mouth of the cornucopia. He got a kill, the boy from District 6, and when realizing that their uniforms won't hold much protection, stripped them off. After set up, a massive feast was delivered, and drunk on good times, they spent the night in an overjoyed state.

The careers relegated their hunts to the long nights, spending the days to rest up and play up the cameras and what not. They got rid of the girls from 3 and 5 on the second day, eagerly taken out by Adonis. The arena is down to the final eight when a sandstorm kicks up, ball lightning additionally separating the careers from their materials. No one returns to help the others, but Adonis does fine when he needs to climb out of a pit he fell downAlone, Adonis found an oasis, taken over by the boy from District 9. He's a massive field hand, armed with a sickle, but Adonis' lance perfectly disarms it and he chokes the boy under water, getting a perfectly packaged meal fit to last the upcoming weeks.

A feast isn't called surprisingly, but the swirling sandstorms and erratic ball lightning draws the remaining careers, the boys from Districts 1 and 2 to each other. The battle's bloody, but Adonis stands tall after a long and drawn battle, sporting several scars on his abdomen where the boy sliced him, bleeding heavily from the thighs, and several head wounds add to the substantial bleeding, but he's in a better state than Draco, and he manages to smirk as the camera just before the hovercraft takes him away.

"And that is why you'll be one of my favorite victors in one of my favorite arenas," Ponicherry says as the reel ends. "I am so glad that we ended on such a noble, stong, and might I add, deliciously sexy young man for a victor. Tell me, did you ever believe you wouldn't make it?" she asks.

Adonis scoffs like he was told. "No, not at all, confidence is why I'm out of the arena in the first place, and I didn't underestimate any of my opponents. I didn't want the same fate which happened to Apollo several years back to happen to me. And besides, I had a lovely audience like you to come back to."

There are several more questions of course, mere formalities, and Adonis lifts up his shirt to trace the scar he received in his boldest battle against the boy from District 9, much to the pleasure of his fans. Leif in the background smiles, despite knowing the deal that'll come about during the victory tour, and soon, Coriolanus Snow, substituting in for President Hail this night, places the crown on Adonis' spiked blond hair.

"THANK YOU PANEM, IT'S BEEN AN HONOR SERVING YOU. UNTIL NEXT TIME, I'M PERRINE PONICHERRY, AND THIS WAS THE VICTORY INTERVIEW!" she signs off right now. The audience begins to congregate about the new victor as the cameras turned off, but the older mentor turned them away tiredly. Adonis really needed his rest, it would be a long train ride home. "So, Snow, first priority on the victor's market for me, right?"

"Yes, Perrine, you can have any victor you want, it's our deal, remember?"

"And I want him, his torso, his cheek, everything about him on me, handling me like a real man would, what's your father's price?"

"Unfortunately my father has also taken ill, but he did leave an issue saying that the betting for Adonis will start at 25000 dollars. I think I can get you him for 18000, that's the lowest I can go."

"I'll still be protected if word gets out, after all, I am endorsing you for the presidency, once Hail dies, right?"

"But of course, which is why a paltry 18000 dollars is acceptable."

"I want him the first day he comes back next year, 20000 dollars, five hours, and I'm taking it back if he's less than five."  
"Alright Ms. Ponicherry, I just hope your career in stupid Hunger Games smut fanfiction goes well. Sign me up for the first month of stories."

 **Hey guys, hopps here  
WOW I had a major writer's block dealing with Adonis. Ponicherry centered was the only style that ended up working for me, and I hope you guys appreciate Adonis like that.  
I also hope you enjoy Snow and Ponicherry's quick conversation. I know it may be a bit OOC for Snow, but he's younger here, and he can have his interests. And we get to see just how much power Snow has already. He'll rise in the 30's which is next CHAPTER! I hope you guys are ready for two canon victors and political struggles and heart-wrenching moments. And I hope that I can keep that promise**

 **Hopping out  
Hopps  
P.S. coming up next, an outlier victory, first of the District's kind, nonetheless, and someone I'm kind of worried about  
P.P.S, maybe I should de-fictionalize some of Ponicherry's smut fictions? Just for fun  
**


	30. Seeder Firest

_**Victor #30:**_

 _ **Name: Seeder Firest**_

 _ **Age during games: 16**_

 _ **District: 11**_

 _ **Games: 030**_

 _ **Death: Games 0117, Veal**_

"Grandma, Grandma quick, it's almost on!" a little boy said as he ran through the rest of the house.

"Settle down, Clover," the aged woman said. "Go play with your cousins in the living room. I think I have a new book if you want to read it." The woman watched as her grandson ran into the living room with bubbling energy, little Clover had his mother's energy, and all of his sisters'. She pulled out a jar of candies, lemon swirls, Caddison's favorite from her Hunger Games, and something that keeps the kids settled down. Her own children tell her not to give their children, but dammit she's a victor and Seeder Firest gave her kids lemon candy when they were younger.

She can't help smiling to herself even as she decides to take a bite of the lemon swirls. Times have been tough recently, with all the talk up there with the star crossed lovers and their issues with Snow, then that only deals with District 12's worries, not much more to say about District 11, besides it being 20 times more oppressive than usual. If her restrictive talks with Finnick and Wiress are anything to go by, Districts 3 and 4 aren't doing well either. District 11 is a strong District, and Seeder's sure that the tough times will pass and that the citizens will hold their heads high, backs strong, and open arms for any more victors. Though hopefully before her stash of lemon swirls runs out, she won't let Caddison's treat run out.

"Oh mom," her daughter, elegant and beautiful Striper called out. "The peacekeepers say that we'll have to stay here tonight. Lockdown just came on, and the other victors are in with their families. The mandatory viewings about to start but Katniss is modelling wedding dresses right now. You okay mom?"

"Fine dear, and the boys can take Merrimack's room while the girls can stay in your room," Seeder replied tiredly. She liked Katniss, a noble and brave victor from District 12, absolutely touching with Peeta Mellark and Rue Avergarde. She only killed several careers to get with Peeta in the end, and that's something that Seeder, reluctantly accepts. "I'll sleep on the couch again. You and Cacao can take Basil's room. Merrimack and Louvre can take Kale's room. It's a shame that the only time that all of us can spend time together nowadays is during mandatory viewing."

"Yes it is mom. I do miss this house though. Shame Donnabella doesn't really appreciate it," Striper said disdainfully.

"She's 19 years old, old enough to find a man, let her. I know she'll be safe no matter where she is."  
"I hope so, mother." Striper took the case of lemon swirls from Seeder's hands and left to go in the living room, shouting at the rambunctious kids Seeder was proud to call her legacy. Somewhere in the massive house, Merrimack and Louvre were playing poker with Kale and Basil and Veronica and Cacao for diaper changing duties. One score after her husband's death, and Seeder was sure Rylen would be proud of the legacy they built.

It's when she takes a seat in her lovingly sewn arm chair and stares at the television mounted above the fireplace, she smiles again. She's almost never seen without a smile, something her dad used to tell her before the games, and after, and the smile that appears on her face as she sees Katniss model every dress is subdued, tender, and tired. So very tired, almost every year she smiles identically, tired, subdued, and tender. When the dress special ends and a brief banner appears on the screen alerting citizens of more on mandatory viewing, she calls out to Merrimack, Louvre, Cacao, Kale and Basil from their poker game. The kids all eagerly crowd around Seeder's chair, from little Clover at 4 years old to old Jesse at 18, to her oldest- Striper, who reclines on the large sofa, she's happy at the legacy she's built.

The banner at the bottom of the screen disappears and a voice over, Claudius Templesmith of Hunger Games fame speaks loudly before the audio transfers to President Snow. He's grey haired, yellow-snake eyed, but very much better off than anyone in the Districts. He raises a hand to calm the loud applause emanating from the cheering crowd below him, no doubt spliced in with actual cheers, but enthusiastic and he begins to speak. _For pete's sake,_ Seeder thinks to herself. _He's reading the Treaty of Treason._

It's something that she's heard every year of her entire life. She heard it just before she was reaped for the thirtieth annual Hunger Games, and every year since and before. She knows it forward and back. Even the mentions of the Quarter Quell are nothing new, she only needed to hear it once for the message to be ingrained in her head. She and Legume have been joined by another boy and girl since Seeder's games, the girl now old and finally stable enough to start her family and the boy-we'll, Haymitch is just glad to have him as a drinking buddy.

She snaps out of it once she hears the footsteps of the little avox boy in white step forward to President Snow, the box of envelopes held outstretched in his tiny arms. Snow hovers over the first row of envelopes for a while before picking the third one from the bottom of the box. He unfolds it quickly, placing the ceremonial letter cutter back in the envelope box. "To remind us all how the hunger games was a result of the sins of our ancestors," he begins to read. Even surrounded with her family's warmth, Seeder's filled with a chill that she hasn't felt since Rosie's games. "...all tributes reaped must have relation to a Victor, be it cousin, mother, father, or child. For this games, we are lowering the lower age limit to 10 years old and abolishing the upper age limit, and the mentors whose relatives are reaped shall mentor, unless their relative is deceased, to which the Victor shall have a choice between the remaining victors. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in these citizen's favor."

The mandatory viewing cuts as Snow leaves the podium to massive applause. "Mom…" Striper chokes out. She notices Seeder hyperventilating, something that hasn't happened since her last tribute fell in the eruption of a massive arena volcano. "Give grandma some room. Jesse, Merrimack, Louvre, Kale, Basil, we need to help."  
Six pairs of strong hands grab their matriarch by the shoulders and guide her out of the room. "Jess, take care of the others, we'll talk with you later," Louvre tells her grandson. The boy nods and talks with his younger relatives gently as the adults pull Seeder into the laundry room.

"Mom," Kale asks. "Mom, are you okay?"

She doesn't reply, clutching at her chest in pain, trying to slow her breath down, and grabs the boomerang she keeps in the cupboard. Her breathing slows down a little, but the adults are forced to duck as Seeder throws the boomerang. "I can't do it," Seeder chokes out. The boomerang returns to her. "We're the largest family of victors, or one of, we're going to lose our children. Striper, Merrimack, Louvre, Kale, Basil…"

"Mom, no, don't say that," Striper says. "Mom please-"  
Tears begin to form in her eyes as she continues talking. "There has only been one legacy victor in the history of the Hunger Games, Cashmere Broach, and she's from District 1. We need to break it to them gently. We'll do what it takes to protect them," she chokes.

"Seeder," Merrimack says tiredly. His baby sister looks up at him with tears welling in her eyes. "Seeder, you've brought home two tributes, you can do it again."

"I really want to. The only way that we're gonna do that though is train," Seeder says dejectedly. "We need to train. I don't like the mentality of Districts 1 and 2, but I guess we're tearing a page out of their manual."  
"Only 10 and older are reaped. That means-"  
"Yes Kale, Clover and Adena are illegible," Cacao completes. "Seeder-mom, we'll get through this as a family."

The smile makes a shadow of reappearing once more, and Seeder dries her tears with the edge of the boomerang. "If one of our children makes it home," she begins to say. "Don't hold them accountable for who they killed, forget that they killed, and we'll try to bring them home."  
"I already did that sis," Merrimack says reassuringly. "I moved in with you in spite of your kills, and you only made 2."  
"By the official counts I made some of the least, Alejandro, Peeta, Weaven, Monaghue and I were the only ones who needed to make two. I don't think I can replicate it, promise me that you'll look out for family if it comes down to it. Tell the children that one or two of our family might not make it," she says with yet another sigh. "Take this seriously, I need to explain these to the kids and Jesse. Do that for me, okay?"  
Her family nods, returning her small and simple smile before drawing Seeder in for a group hug. "We'll bring District 11 home. For the District, for our family, for us, for you, for them," Louvre says.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **This is the reason why I was so nervous, it's yet another canon character, a strong one in fanon, and I had a lot of trouble deciding what to do with Seeder, a highly acclaimed fan-favorite at that. I really hope the way I presented her did her justice, and that she still shines through as a strong woman that she is. I hope that you guys like this rendition of her, her family, and you should let me know about her.  
And I'm pretty sure I jumped the shark with this. The 75th games, as stated, will reap Victor legacies and families, not Victors. I hope that this plot is interesting, and there'll be an upcoming fanfiction about the quell in the future, near or far is still TBD. So, tell me, what do you think?  
Hopping out  
Hopps  
P.S. Remember how Gale is supposedly Katniss' cousin? Yeah that's gonna come into play in the future.**


	31. Minercal Carbon

**_Victor #31:_**

 ** _Name: Minercal Carbon_**

 ** _Age during games: 18_**

 ** _District: 02_**

 ** _Games: 031_**

 ** _Death: Games 0102,Corbin_**

 _I sit on watch for guard duty. In this massive expanse that is an old college, the six of us-commonly known as the careers are the biggest threats the arena has. It's a dull games-no mutts or visible gamemaker interference yet, and we're the strongest. I take a risk of closing my eyes and I think I stay there for either a second too long or a second too short. What wakes me up is a whiz coming from a thrown dagger. It implants in my thighs as I roll out of the way. I don't think when I pull back the string and shoot two arrows into Magnus Vanas of District 1._

I wake up gasping under my covers. Even 4 years from my victory, the nightmares never leave me. Headmistress Valor told us that the ghosts of the arena often come back to haunt us in our sleep. I fumble around in my bed and knock over several pillows. The victors are still in the Capitol two weeks after victory, something about the rails being unstable and they need to check it over. Everyone has nightmares, even-no especially Lupus. He's the most open about his nightmares, the strong yet gentle teddy bear who he is kind of has something to deal with it. All 35 of us are still in the tribute/mentor center, and I take the room I did when I was a tribute, when Pharra was alive.

"Leif," I whisper into the darkness of my room. I still haven't forgiven myself the years since my victory, knowing that I took 8 lives from the world. I knew Magnus was shady during my year, and that he would be the one to implode the alliance. Only District 2 survived the career massacre, me and Forge, and we split up, only to meet again for the finale. I think the career implosion catapulted me into the top 6, when it was just me, Forge, the girls from 6 and 8, and the boys from 11 and 12. Magnus was still the hardest kill even after a lengthy battle with the outer boys.

"Betrayal is imminent in an alliance," Headmistress-or should I say, Lumin's plaque on my wall reads. She won 4 days into the Hunger Games, her last kill being the boy from District 4. I know a lot about the victors, and what talks I had with Magnus shed light onto Leif.

"He didn't want me to volunteer. But I guess that with Dad being the first victor for us, then the mentality transferred," Magnus said resigned as shot arrow after arrow. Like most careers, he was trained in the art of killing, but unlike most careers, he was reaped. No one volunteered for him, despite the six District 1 trainers picking someone suitable.

I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting with leif in the victor's lounge. He slapped me across the face, I almost drove a knife into his lungs, he almost choked me, I kicked him where his wife hated it, and safe to say, Leif and I are not friends. At all. Acacia, the first victor from District 7, and the only other victor to lose a child in the arena told me about it. "He has anger issues, and I don't get along well with him either. He killed my best friend when I was younger," she lamented.

Acacia is not the only victor from 7, but the only girl, having failed to bring out every girl who has gone in since her, including Savon. Magnus and Savon, who I remember as being the ally to Mullen from District 5, commonly appear in my nightmares.

"I am the seventh victor to come out of District 2," I remind myself. I turn on the lamp to get some light in the room, and pull out the books and pamphlets laid on the nightstand for me. The first one is an advertisement for my arena, a derelict boarding school where I need to appear soon for a photo-shoot. The second one is a note from Cleopatra, _Magnus isn't District 2's only ghost_. I remember her brother died in the arena...not in a noble death by any means. The third book is a lewd novel by Perrine Ponicherry, the first interviewer for the hunger games, who is a successful erotica writer. I took a look at it before, and let's just say that the wishes of the Capitol are twisted. The fourth is one of Cleopatra's books, a collection of poetry that she published after my games. The Gone Book of Poetry, Voices Never Heard.

I begin to riffle through the rest of the books when I hear the phone in the main common room ringing. I rush out to grab it, trying carefully not to wake up any of my fellow victors (especially Romulus). "We need to meet now," a woman says on the line.

"Who is this?" I ask impatiently.

"Mags. Minercal, I know you're probably tired but I got a note from an avox. One of my connections in the council told me. But we need to meet urgently!"  
"Mags, calm down," I say tiredly. "If it's something serious you can just tell me and I'll relay it to the others."  
"Oh no, it's much more serious than you think. We can't talk about it on the phone, just the two of us, we need all 35 of us. You have connections in the pottery business, right?"

"I don't see how that applies, but yes."

"Ok, do you know who else has connections to where from District 2?"  
"Lupus, you know he and Romulus are still with those protein powder groups and power lifters. Cleo, she's with the publishing houses. I'm sure Razer's well known in the museum field. Lumin and Onix are the only ones that I'm not sure of, but Onix has been seen with peacekeeper captains down in District 2, and Lumin is an inspirational speaker," I quickly reply, the doubt in my voice creeping out.

"Okay, we need the escorts too. I can't find District 5's nor District 6's, and we need all the help we can get. I'll meet you at the top of the roof," she says hastily before hanging up.

I blink in the soft light of the main District 2 floor. The whir of an elevator tells me that Onix is probably back from his night on the town. "Onix," I stop him mid stride.

"Yes?" he asks.

"Get the others up, Mags is worried and all of us need to meet."  
"I know," he replies. "I ran into her on the way up."

"What's the issue that she wants all 35 of us up there for?" I tiredly ask, making my way to grab water.

"Min. We're at the end of an era. She knows, the peacekeepers know," he pauses for a brief moment and takes a swig of water. "President Hail has perished."

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
Sorry for the cliffhanger but I was really struggling and then my writer's motivation just came back and...it's complicated. I hope that I got Minercal to be someone decent to read about, and maybe develop a bit more. I know it's briefer than what you expect, but it's all I have. Sorry.  
As per usual, I'd love for you to tell me what you think about her, and maybe a bit about Onix and Mags. I really want to know what you think of Minercal and Leif's relationship-what little there was here. I hope you guys enjoyed it  
Hopping out  
Hopps  
P.S. This takes place just after Hunger Games 35, where a career won.**


	32. Sullivan Annistar

_**Victor #32:**_

 _ **Name:Sullivan Annistar**_

 _ **District: 07**_

 _ **Age During Games; 17 years old**_

 _ **Games: 032**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 104, Leroy**_

Reaping day. It's the day that most residents of District 7 are thought to fear, where one boy and one girl each are taken by the capitol to end up dead, or live their lives as ghosts for eternity, immortalized by a stupid statue in a useless waste of wood in a park. From what Tody tells me, he authorized the demolition of the 'victor's park' in his District, now there's a warehouse there, but the statue of him still rests, covered by tarps where he is in the tackling position. "Streak," Acacia calls out. She needs to meet with Steven and Lucas down, I need to help . I don't want her to leave.

It takes me a while to get out of my room, dancing around the books strewn onto the floor. Of the tributes that came to the Capitol, I'm the only boy to return. There's one more alongside me, but she won a decade before and has her own life. But she's my best friend, the only effigy mutt who hasn't tormented in my arena, the only other person to know my pain in District 7. I scream loudly when Acacia knocks loudly on the door, only relaxing as she waits at the door. "Acacia...no, I can't go," I hesitantly say. "They didn't vote me in. I'm still going to have to go back."

"Streak, your trials are over," she says comfortably. I flinch when she tries to draw me in for a hug but she moves in gently. "It's time for another one."

"They'll take Steven, and Virkhow, and Lucas, we need to save them!" I release myself from her hug and run to the window, I try to open the latch but it's too small for my hands, and Acacia's able to pry me away from the window. "NO! NO!" I try to break free, a decade ago I was still enough muscle to fight against someone, but now I'm more plastic than anything and as Acacia drags me away, I still scream of plastic and what little sanity is left.

"Virkhow, she's your sister, she's inelligible. She has her family now. Lucas, he's still my husband, long since illegible, and so is Steven. Steven has two kids, Savon the second and Honey, they're both too young to go in. Streak, we're going to be safe. I had a talk with Hail about our safety, he reassured it."

"You're sure? The mutts won't take them?"

"Positive. Streak, they'll take someone, but not Virkhow, Lucas, nor Steven. And definitely not Savon the second nor honey."

I breathe in once more. "No mutts here?"

"No mutts. You can get dressed right? I need to talk with Apple and Birch. It's been a long time since our last talk."

"Siblings?"

"Yes, Streak. You know that. They have two kids of their own, loosely protected, but you don't have to talk to them, and they definitely won't be reaped. It'll be fine, and you'll be good. I'll see you at the reaping." When she gently closes the door behind her as she leaves the house, I rest on the floor for several minutes, curling my body around some books I have about the old history of the world. Panem used to be 14 individual functioning countries before unifying against the capitol. Then the Dark Days, of which most of us are a part of, then a year of interquell, then the Hunger games.

If history has a chance of repeating itself then what Panem will exist as will fall, I know it will. I try to block out the rest of my morning routine, ignoring the scars that are on my torso hastily covered up because of my time in the arena, where the image in the Capitol that I maintain is kept with plastic and threads. I make it down to the town square quickly, any slower or the trees swarm around me and threaten to take me once more. Acacia stands next to the stage and when she sees me walking up she gives Birch a quick hug and runs to me. "I think I'm ready," I stammer out.

Acacia smiles and guides me to the stage. Four chairs are laid out for me, Acacia, Mayor Miken, and our escort, a dumb bitch named Flowy...and I thought my name was bad. Acacia and I are the only two to make it home, and any others that join us for the future will be sitting with us, provided we're alive by that point. Miken begins his speech before he segues back to Flowy, where the reaping balls roll into place. I clench onto Acacia tightly when Flowy decides to shake things up and goes for the boys first. "SULLIVAN ANNISTAR!"

The name rings through the square for much longer than I hope. It's only broken once the boy steps out of the 17 year old section. I feel as though I'm looking in the past, he's a dead ringer for me. He's a lumberjack, muscular and strong with sweeping good looks. I can only turn my head around as he comes closer with his light brown hair and sharp cheeks and blue eyes. "They picked me again," I whisper into Acacia's ears. I can feel the heavy breathing come on, the images of the effigies swirling around.

Acacia snaps me out of it by hugging me tighter-I know her warmth is real, and I lift my head up just in time for the girl to come on stage. "ANCHORAGE FLUFFITZ!" Instantly I snap my head to Acacia, pull her tightly, and hold onto her, not letting her go, but I'm surprised when a girl, like Sullivan's age if a little younger, takes the stage. She has sandy blond hair, forest green eyes, and a pointed chin that makes her look beautiful.

Both Anchorage and Str-Sullivan make it into the justice building not long after. I go with Acacia as she greets her family, brother Birch, Sister Apple, Son Steven, and Husband Lucas. They greet me warmly but I shrink to the back when Birch tries to size me up. He's five foot nine, but I'm sure his muscles are more real than mine would ever be, even at his advanced age. The car comes soon to pick up Acacia and I and drive us to the train station. In there, I begin to cry, scream, the same drill it has been for over a decade, and only Acacia can calm me down.

Both Anchorage and Sullivan are sullen when they walk in the train car. Acacia tells them to sit down, talk with us for several hours or so until the reaping replays go on. They'll serve food momentarily. I turn on the television hesitantly, replays of past Hunger Games are currently on, I recognize Trusty's arena as she runs away with Caleb from several rat mutts. They lead them straight to the boy from District 3, Kubrick, who's sleeping, and Trusty slits his throat. The commentators rank this as the second worst Hunger Hunger Games Victor Attributed Death, ahead of the girl from District 10 stumbling blindly into a mutt den during Burell's year. It's when Mags appears, trying to throw a spear into the heart of District 7's male tribute that year that I put a worried hand on Acacia. "Tell them…" I say aimlessly.

"Streak, I don't think that I-"

"They need to know what they do to us," I counter. I was spared most of the horror, but Acacia still had to work the crowds until Savon's death several years ago. I still get called occasionally, chapped lips kissing a trail of fake abs and caressing bags of plastic that rest in my chest, licking arms that aren't possible for me any more, but I've been better off than Acacia.

"I'll break it to them gently," Acacia promises. Dinner is called, dinner passes, and the reaping replays come on stage. Districts 1, 2, and 4 have their usual sextet of volunteers, but the girl looks like a wild card, not particularly trained, but still someone to look out for. Districts 5 ,6, and 8 are commonly regarded as filler Districts, having only 4 victors between all three of them compared to the 15 or so that the inner Districts have. District 3,7, and 9 put up damn good fights, but they still pale in comparison to the combined powers of the careers. Districts 10-12 are respectable districts, good fights between all of them, but the weakest Districts as of late.

"Bedtime!" Flowy chimes in, her first words since the reaping. When Sullivan and Anchorage walk to their rooms, I notice the step that Sullivan has. It's confident, strong, proud, like the careers as of late. I follow him into his room, ignoring the objections from Flowy and Acacia, and find him fixing his hair in the mirror, perfecting his mop of sandy hair.

"You're not like the others," I speak up. Sullivan turns around, I realize that he is just in an opened polo with nothing underneath. "You're just like me." Looking at him is like looking in a mirror, but Sullivan is more confident, unbroken, and wilder.

"I thought you weren't supposed to mentor," he asks.

"I do my own thing," I say quietly. He perks his ears. "I think you can win this, but I don't want you to end up like me."

"Like plastic?"

"Exactly. I miss the feeling of power in my hands, the feeling of control, feeling free. If you win or if you lose, that's going away. District 7 is powerful, I think that you're trying to join the careers." He nods at my assumption. "The District won't forgive you, the careers are too powerful, they don't give us hope."

"The job in the lumber yards help."

"But I didn't know how to kill, and for it I paid the price. Everyone has ghosts, they follow them, Andromeda, the 4 girl a couple of years back, she sees them. Lumin, she sees them. We all do, Acacia's ghost is her daughter. Mine is the girl from District 2. If you leave a winner, they might come for you too." I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the flashes of conifer forests behind me, and continue. "I'm starting to think that you might be a ghost, a ghost of my past. I can only hope that if you leave, they won't come for you. There are more costs, but you'll be able to handle them after your victory."

"Streak, do you think that I can make it back?"

"That's a question that only you can answer. Joining the careers would take you away from you, so don't do that. It's going to be hard, especially if they decide to make the arena hell. It comes in many flavors, but I hope that you're only on the first level of hell. You seem like a good kid." He doesn't reply, but I see gratitude in his eyes. "Go to sleep, it may be the last sure thing before the arena."

The boy nods, gesturing to the shower. I think I let him, but I leave to go to my room soon after. I take a shower, go to bed, the usual. Nothing appears in my dreams, it's a blessing, and I only hope that Sullivan ends up alive after this ordeal. Little would I know after several weeks, he'd be back from the hot county fair.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
I really wanted to revisit Streak before his eventual 'death' this decade, and get a little into his thought process. I'd also like to know your impressions on Sullivan and Streak this chapter. If you want to see a bit more on Streak, be sure to check out Quell: Choices, where I plan to give every victor a perspective...eventually. So check it out when he's there.  
I know it wasn't centered onto Sullivan much, but I'm sure that if you check out the chapter title then you know he wins. What do you think of him? Let me know  
Hopping out  
Hopps  
P.S. Forgot about his eventual death...added it...sorry**


	33. Pharlax Troughis

_**Victor #33:**_

 _ **Name: Pharlax Troughis**_

 _ **District: 09**_

 _ **Age During Games; 16 years old**_

 _ **Games: 033**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 92, Tungsta**_

The day the Hunger Games begin, I walk past my parents' house. Their shutters are drawn on the almost run down building, I can almost see Pharlax dancing with her friends in the front of the house, using the stereo our neighborhood got as a reward from winning the Quarter Quell. Pharlax is the third Troughis to be reaped for the Hunger Games, a deceased Aunt, Mona, she was reaped the year Jonas won. Then we lost another, 16th Hunger Games, a deceased uncle Cophris. "Mom," I ask as I walk into the building. It's dark in here, our family lives on the outskirts of the District, not much access to electricity. "Mom, Dad?"

"We're here Molly," I hear dad say. They step out of the foyer, eyes red and wrinkled. Pharlax got a five, and her interview with Caesar Flickerman wasn't anything spectacular. Odds are better for Rixton, who got a 6 and whose natural good looks can't hurt his fanbase in the Capitol. Pharlax is pretty, but on the whole one of the more average tributes for the year. "It's a long trip into town, we better go."

I nod solemnly and walk with them out to the main fields. It's a long walk, like my family described. My new living situation means that I'll have to walk much farther to get here from the outer schools. They have us with Rixton's family on two elevated stage portions and we stare out on the massive screen set up on the other side of the square with tired and dead eyes. The screen flickers to life, the clock elsewhere chiming 9:00, and one of our Victors, Gerrian Tomion waits behind us. "I hope for the best," Gerry says firmly. "I think we can bring someone home."

I'm sure the reactions will be revealed live on the camera, so I try to dry my eyes and stare out in the audience. Rixton's father sits next to me on the stage and he allows me to rest my head on his shoulder. "Well would you look at this, old reliable and an ever-favorite, this multi-terrain arena will play host for these 24 tributes in these upcoming weeks," Martia Templesmith, barely my age says enthusiastically. "Tell me Caesar, what do you think is going to be the best area to run into?"

"As we've seen before, the forests are usually reliable, but I'm sure that Districts 9 and 11 will be flocking to the fields." A graphic of the arena appears in front of them, adn we see that a significantly large portion of the arena is surrounded by the fields. The arena is simply, layers and layers of concentric circles, the fields are on the second outermost circle, surrounded on both sudes by a ring of rivers with rocks. "But we also have a massive lakes scattered here and there, and a section devoted to desert. District 10 may thrive in the Desert but District 4 has the advantage with the lakes. Only time will tell, and I'm told that the tributes have been launched. Let's cut to the live stream."

The seven of us on stage are paralyzed as we see the tributes rise up. The careers are all clustered together, eyeing the bounty. Thankfully both tributes from District 9 are on the opposite side of them, luckily obscured by the cornucopia. When the countdown ticks to 43 seconds Pharlax and Rixton exchange several nods of their heads with the tributes from District 6, skinny and shivering, but nodding in response. In between them is a 12 year old girl from District 3, nervous and trembling. She takes a step off of her pedestal and the mines blow her up. A cannon fires quickly, the swirling dusts obscures Pharlax and Rixton's eyes, and in shock the boy from District 8 falls on his ass onto the dirt, blowing up and sending even more dust through the arena. The hum of the gong echoes through the arena and signals the rest of the tributes to move.

"PHARLAX!" Rixton shouts in between the dust. It's a unique twist, and all tributes are disillusioned here, much more than usual in the years past, there's a lot of hectic collisions. Rixton tries to call out her name once more before the massive career boys find him. They take him into the cornucopia and plunge many swords into him, screaming and causing even more dust to throw into the air. Rixton's father-old man Clippos, lets his tears fall solemnly onto the dust of the District.

"Pharlax, where are you?" I aimlessly mutter. Just for kicks, a collision counter has appeared, she has three collisions, and finally manages to sprint out into the forest, leaping over rocks and dodging the falling trees. The dust is finally allowed to settle, and a quick look over the fallen tributes reveal that 11, spectacularly high for the years have fallen onto the ground. It's still daylight, they won't deploy any cannons soon, and give the tributes time to rest before the cannons.

I guess I'm proven wrong when the cannons fire not three minutes after the actual bloodbath. Eleven, like I initially thought, and none of them are the careers. Pharlax darts to and from between trees and bushes, picking off edible plants where they lie on the ground and shoving them hastily in her backpack. She's a fast runner, one of the fastest of her year, and the trophies in her room I'm sure are collecting dust. "Come on, come on," she says quickly before running to the edge of the arena. She sighs in relief as she makes it to the rivers surrounding the circle of fields.

"Mandatory viewing over!" our headpeacekeeper, Mauritia Daytonis barks. She lets five of her right hand biters march the District's 63000 or so out of the square. "Look I'm sorry, but the Capitol needs you here for the reactions," she says calmly to Rixton's father.

He nods solemnly and hugs his wife and daughter closely. The Clippos family is one of the poorest families in the District, Rixton was picked simply because of his dozens of tesserae, as was Pharlanx. "Are we free to go?" I ask Mauritia.

"Yes, we'll alert you if you are needed. Get some rest. Gerrian, you're a former mentor, take care of them. The Clippos need to get prepared." Gerry nods, guiding me and my family back to victor's village.

"We're closer to the town, and I'm approved to have you all here for the duration of the Hunger Games. I get Jonas to do the same, we're both authorize," he leads us into victor's village, and we have a prime opportunity to ogle at the massive fountain in the center.

"Lovely place you have here," Mom says quietly.

"Who knows, if Pharlax wins then I could have you lovely folks as neighbors. It's a nice neighborhood, no mutts, if that's what your concerned with-I know Maury was when she moved in. I actually have high hopes for Pharlax, there have been other victors who survived with getting a four or five."

"She's either gonna be lucky enough to survive or unlucky enough to survive," Dad says depressingly.

"As my friend Irumn Ferl proved, surviving the Hunger games can ultimately boil down to luck. She actually only had to lay her hands to kill for her one person. And even before her, Delly Dicer of District 8. And if you want to get techical, Legume Nitrate of District 11."

"That was then, this is now, and with the odds she isn't going to survive long," I say sadly. "If any of the brutes or bitches from the careers get them-"

"I mean they aren't that bad once you get to know them after the area," Gerry says defensively. "But I see what you mean, and the arena brings out the brutality. I've seen a lot, being the first victor. You believe in your sister, right?"

I'm about to agree, wholeheartedly possibly with a loud shout, but then I begin to think. None of my family in the arena made it home, why would Pharlax be the first? "It's going to be a long shot," I reply timidly.

"Believing in something only does so much more to help. Every victor believed in themselves, it's cheesy yes, but there's a point in the arena where every single person left alive at that point thinks that they can make it home. Whether or not they make it there is a massive difference, but it helps."  
I nod. "Then I can believe in her, then I can believe she can make it home. It'll be long, but she might be able to make it out yet."

* * *

We aren't called on stage for mandatory viewing for five days. Three tributes die in this span, District 11 and the boy from District 3. The careers decide to camp on the outskirts of the river where we all know Pharlax has made her base. The boys are all massive for their ages and the girls are all deadly, basically amazon like, as the commentators call them. They aren't very smart though, and Pharlax uses this trait to avoid them. The six careers find a boy, probably from District 6, the only boy left on Day 9 not involved with the careers, and Pharlax makes it to the final 8 without a kill. "You want to do this now?" the blond beauty from District 1-Topaz I think her name is, asks the rest of the group.

"One more night," the boy from four says, throwing off his shirt in boredom and laying his arm over his partner, Charybdis, holding up one finger.

The boy from District 2 nods in agreement. "Torpedo has a point," he admits.

"And to think that you aren't disagreeing with him, Clay," the boy from District 1 snarks.

"If you want to fight now then we can 'Pophis. But I doubt Derry wants to do anything," Clay replies.

"Just sleep now, we need to rest for tomorrow if we want to do just that, right Derry?" Topaz interrupts. The girl she refers to, prematurely greying but with a permanent frown nods simply. She doesn't talk for long, if she talks at all, and decides to roll over to sleep immediately. "That's settled. Good night everyone, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

The anthem plays for the night, the boy from District 6 shimmers in the sky before fading forever, and Gerry guides us into his house quickly, the family interviews will be going on tomorrow. I don't know what I dream, mainly because it's too confusing, but I see a leopard and a bear making out before they're crushed by the wings of a massive unicorn and a nimble creature, probably a field creature from Ancient Africa, slits the throat of the unicorn.

* * *

After the interview by a stupid capitol biddy, too much coaching for my liking, and much too bright, mom, dad and I are all sent to the reaping stage for immediate mandatory viewing. According to the interviewer, one of the Templesmith siblings, Claude or something, a cannon has fired in the arena followed by two more. It might be the collapse of the career alliance, but according to Claude, it might involve an outlying District.

The mandatory viewing begins with a view of the career tributes sleeping idly and peacefully. Torpedo shifts his hand on Charybdis' body but otherwise makes no movement. Topaz turns her head slightly to Apophis, her partner when she hears a stick snapping but falls asleep shortly after, and is sound asleep when another twig snaps. The camera pans over to a figure lurking in the darkness, carrying a knife unsteadily in their left hand. I can hear the tribute breathing as it moves ever closer to the careers. The figure makes it to the camp-we're seeing this in the tribute's perspective, and she lingers over the necks of one of the careers before finally plunging it deeply into Torpedo's exposed neck.

The tribute barely makes it to the back of a tall fir tree not more than 20 feet away, but the careers are too preoccupied by accusing each other and breaking out into a large argument. The camera switches to the careers once more where an all out melee is occuring, with Derry finally losing her head and throwing a tomahawk into Apophis' chest, screeching all the while. The two other girls fight with each other before Derry almost pounces on them before they scamper in separate directions. Clay, massive as he is, manages to subdue the crazy girl on the ground despite her lengthy thrashing. Still she manages to lay several cuts on the career boy before he finally gains enough control to snap her neck.

"And with that," Martia Templesmith says. "We're in the final five! Four females to one male, and our one guy isn't so hot right now, injuries in his shoulders, a painful kick in the crotch, a stab in the leg, but on the bright side his sponsor support is up! Speaking of sponsors, we have it on Maury's authority that thanks to her first kill, Pharlax Troughis is rivaling Clay in sponsor totals! Thank you Panem, and good night."

The anthem plays on the screen in the background, Apophis, Derry, and Torpedo are the three faces to show before they fade into the night. A quick shot of Pharlax, timelapsed to her current position, has her in the stream trying to wash herself ferociously. Topaz and Charybdis are at separate ends of the arena, and the girl from District 8, the other girl alive at this point sleeps under a rock formation hundreds of feet away from everyone else. "You're almost home Pharlax," I say to the emptying square.

* * *

For the next two days our family is called up on reaping stage for mandatory viewing, where Martia explains that the girl from District 8 got herself tied in a trap and has had the elements beating on her for several hours. She calls for help in the forest and Pharlax is the first to get to her. "My name is Velvet. District 8, kill me, please," she mouths, pointing to the dagger that Pharlax holds in her hands.

Pharlax is stunned, denying, she can't do this to someone so helpless so soon, but Velvet pleads, coughing, and sure enough that's what sways Pharlax to kill her. Elsewhere, Charybdis has killed Topaz in yet another bloody battle, escaping with her arms barely holding on and blood dripping violently even as she tries to staunch it. Clay rests in the remains of the career camp, but after hearing the cannon, he decides he's healed enough and moves.

Day 12 is the final day of the arena, and the gamemakers decide to use fire to draw the final four together in sure to be a climactic battle. All three make it to the cornucopia alive, Pharlax in noticeably a much better shape than Charybdis and Clay combined, and manages to go unnoticed as Charybdis pushes Clay into the raging inferno by using his own momentum against him. Charybdis falls to the ground shortly after, and the fire catches up to her, leaving Pharlax as the survivor of Hunger Games, and the next resident of Victor's Village. "Thank you," I stammer out in the middle of tears. Pharlax, the track star, the timid girl who survived, my sister, my three years younger sister, has won, and she's coming home.

 **Hey guys Hopps here  
And Well, such a long chapter. I hope you guys would enjoy these things going on for about this length from now on, considering that I'm pretty sure that this is how it will go.  
Pharlax Troughis is District 9's 4th and second girl. Just so you know, Gerrian Tomion in this chapter is at a ripe old age of 43! Time goes by fast in fanfiction, doesn't it? Tell me what you think of her as always, and general thoughts on the evolution of this project.  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	34. Cane Detrary

_**Victor #34:**_

 _ **Name: Cane Detrary**_

 _ **District: 04**_

 _ **Age During Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 034**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 106, Marcellus**_

"This is rather weird, isn't it?" the boy from District 1 announced as he stumbled into the secluded cover of trees. He called the remainder of his alliance up, the boy from District 4, and the girl from District 2 to marvel at the stunning sight ahead of them. A pair of rabbits hopped from behind rocks to another bush nearby, and a swarm of butterflies floated gracefully from tree branch to tree branch, scaring three red fox kits from their den into a trickling crystalline stream, carried down by a floating log. "I think this is where we should make camp."

The boy and girl nodded, they suffered more wounds than they anticipated with the outer District alliance. To their combined knowledge, it was the first year that Districts 7, 9, and 12 decided to join up. This was the first year that the games were truly an inter-tribute power grab, and for the first six days, only 8 others had died, four in the unusually peaceful cornucopia bloodbath, three fell to the careers, and apparently one-the girl from District 5, died from the elements in the later days. "I lost my pack in the scuffle," the girl mourned.

"I still have some with me, but I can't seem to find the route we took here. It's not going to be enough," the boy from four grumbled. "There's one of those scamps that got away, wouldn't be surprised if she has choice pickings about now. Her mother's work might have saved her."

"I could have sworn I hit her with my dagger," the blond haired boy grumbled.

"If what Cane said is true then she could be healing. Her mother works at the apothecary in District 12?" the girl asked.

"I think that's what she told Flickerman at the interviews," the boy from District 1 concurred. "Final eight already. Can't believe it. Cane, besides you, me, and Diana over here, and the scamp from District 12-"

"Belvita," Diana interrupted.

"Right, so far we have District 1, me-Prism, District 2-you, Diana, District 4, Cane, District 12, Belvita...then.."

"District 5, Bulb, District 8, Cooper, and District 10, Felicia," Cane added. "But I'm missing one, I don't know who it is."

"District 11, Roseanna," Diana completed. "And luckily the audience at home is now all caught up. That being said, we should get healing ASAP if we want a career to win."The boys nodded. "I'm in good shape, let me head out for a while."

"Not more than 25 feet, we don't have many weapons between us," Cane cautioned. Diana nodded and took the small fanny pack with their deflated water bulbs and piddling rations of trail mix into the woods. They watched her head into the woods before Cane lied down next to his ally. "I kind of don't want to ask this much from you, but I think I got several slashes on my back, can you check and patch them up?"

"Sure," Prism replied eagerly. He tried to conceal the light that appeared on his face as he began to rummage through the massive pack that they managed to save after the scuffle. He pulled out the set of pads that was sure to help prevent the bleeding and the disenfectant, but when Cane rolled over on his back, it was deeper than Prism thought. "Oh crap," he murmured. There was only one slash, but it dug in pretty deep through the muscles and nerve. "Cane, do you feel anything in your arms and shoulders?"

"I don't think the pain is that severe. Is it bad? How many are there?"

"Just one but-"

"It's pretty deep, I would have guessed. Used to get these all the time in District 4, I guess that I'm conditioned to it. Scared of the blood?"

"Kind of yeah, I don't want you to die just because of a stupid outlier," Prism replied sternly. As if on cue a large dog, massive eared and rather blubbery with a necklace that contained rubbing alcohol in it. Keep him up-A.P. the note attaached to the bottle said. "Okay, I think the rubbing alcohol should help this. You might want to grip tightly onto something." Prism tore off his own jacket, thin but rather large and gave it to Cane to grip.

Cane took a deep breath as Prism moved over his back, the upper back swelling upward and expanding the wound. "Ready," Cane said with a wince. He clenched his teeth tightly while Prism opened the bottle and the large bandage that would cover the wound. It was lucky that all animals in the mystical forest were passive, considering that the massive groan of pain would have attracted the majority of hostile animals. "Is it over?" Cane asked after a long minute.

"Yeah, yeah, just hold tight." Prism applied the bandage with a rushed yet steady hand and was able to apply it accurately against the long cut. "You okay?"

"Yep," Cane said after a moment. "Fine. Thanks for the help. I don't suppose any sponsors sent a shirt with the alcohol."

"I didn't see anything, and it wasn't big enough for much else. Shame," Prism grumbled, hiding the pleasure in his voice. Cane needed protection yes, but maybe he could go a day without a shirt, it wouldn't have been different from life in District 4, he figured. "You can manage, right? We still have a blanket and others. Though I expect the prices to skyrocket since we're in the Final 8."

"That makes sense. And I think I hear Diana, she should have something for us," Cane said abruptly. Diana sprinted into the clearing, clutching a dead deer in her hands, and pairs of blankets over her head. "WHat's that you have there, Di?"

"Just a deer. And a message," she said grimly. "Let's talk while we eat, it's the noble thing to do."

They set up a fire rapidly, an abundance of dry wood appearing on convenience. Several more parachutes fell as they prepared their meal, nursing as they munched on the grilled venison tiredly. "What is it that you needed to tell us?" Cane asked as they each finished their two pounds of meat.

Diana drew in an audible breath as she pulled out one of the parachutes that fell to her. "Di, break it off as soon as possible-M.C." she read from the slip of paper. "I got a set of six knives, three each meant to be used on both of you."

"Why are you telling us now?" Prism asked warily.

"It's the noble thing to do," she replied. "You know I come from a cutthroat place, the mines are tough and the peacekeeper academy is tougher. I'm sure that the both of you would have gotten messages soon. But we're closer than that, I'm not stooping that low, in spite of what my mother would say."

There wasn't much noise as the day faded into twilight and twilight into night. The anthem appeared brightly in the sky, Luscious starting off the lengthy roll call with her sparkling green eyes and luxurious blond hair. Soon after her was tough and gruff Jonah, letting his grey eyes fade into the night. Then Cane's partner-the crazy ball of fun that was Anemone, with her curly hair fluttering behind her. Both tributes of District 7 appeared, Yew and Peach sporting identical smiles under pairs of brown eyes. Next was both from District 9, Kitty and Michael, young but with much more of a fight than any of them anticipated. Finally, Dynamo of District 12 closed off the night, his starving face masking a surprisingly strong throw. The anthem played once more, letting the scroll disappear into the night.

"If you want to break it go ahead, I'll fight if you need it," Prism mourned. "You've been a real nice friend, I don't want to do this."

"I guess that's the game we have to play then, if you want us to fight then we'll fight, but I truly wish the circumstances were different," Cane agreed, holding a knife warily.

Diana looked at the two boys cautiously, then she sighed. "I don't want it to end like this. You guys were amazing friends, and I'm glad I survived to the end of the career pack with you. Jonah was crazy, Luscious was a ditz, and Anemone and I just didn't end up clicking well. THank you for helping me survive."

The boys looked at her in a stunned silence. "I don't want to kill you, I wouldn't live with myself if I killed my friend," Prism finally spoke up. Cane silently nodded.

"I just want to go it alone, increase the chances of us not having to kill each other. Let's divide the supplies. I'll put out the fire and we'll sort them out by flashlight. Agreed?"

They agreed quickly, putting out the fire and sorting out the massive pile of parachutes, moving the messages to be reviewed later, and took well into the dark night to divide it all. "I guess that's all we need then, well all that we have but, I think the careers can bring someone home today," Prism said optimistically. "Diana, it's late, you can leave early in the morning and stay with us for the night."

"I'll set up my bed far away from you guys, I'm gonna leave as soon as possible, but safety in numbers I guess. Good night," she said exhausted.

"You didn't give a blanket to yourself," Cane observed as he sprawled out two of his. "Do you want one of mine?"

"It's fine, it's fine," Prism declined.

"If you want, you can curl up with me. I doubt Medya back home would like it, but I used to let my cousin when he felt cold, and we're friends. Feel free to hop in if you like." Prism waited a moment before sliding in with the older boy, curling up against him as they watched shooting stars dance across the sky. "You have anyone back home?"

"No, not really. I mean, we're apparently pretty accepting of people like me, if only I could find them. Maybe I wouldn't have trained so hard." Luckily the dark night most likely prevented the blush from being all too apparent. "I mean, I had a crush on Leopold, but practically every guy and girl like me did, and we respect him with Gerrian."

"I hope I don't sound offensive if I tell you that I never understood that. Call me immature, but I saw my older brother make a fool of himself for a guy one time, and it kind of stuck with me. I guess it's good for you that District 1 is that open about it," Cane admitted.

"Well, I was assuming that everyone in the careers kind of knew the story," Prism rambled. "I don't think you have any idea what I'm talking about, do you?" He felt a shift of Cane's bodyweight that he assumed was a shake of his head. "Apparently, even before the Ancient Americas, thousands of years before then, in a country now lost to the sea, there was a powerful army from this powerful nation. They were the 'band of lovers' not the most creative name, but noble, and from a powerful warring state in this country-fat- grease?- tryptophan? I don't remember the name, but I think some capitolitans are named after the warring state in fat. Hehe… Anyway they were a band of same sex couples like 300 of them or so, and they were the strongest army in fat. Only a much bigger army with longer training took them down. I think they were from Thebes? It's motivation for those of us in the Y.E.C. Maybe if I make it home, I'll find myself my own Thebian lover. You're asleep, aren't you? Ah well, nice talking with you. I hope to see you in some other life."

True to her words, Diana left the next morning, leaving the boys and their camp untouched. They took a rest day today, Cane still needed to heal and Prism wasn't at his best either. There were no faces in the sky that night, and Cane once again let Prism sleep with him. "Thebian lovers, huh?" Cane asked as they stared into the vast expanse of the sky.

"It's a lovely story, and I want to find out if it's true. You know, Leopold is basically the ideal career in District 1, in spite of not bringing home a victor yet. He volunteered for a noble cause, continued to fight the good fight, and is an amazing advocate for the minorities in the District," Prism said.

"Kind of like Mags, I guess," Cane added. "Anything else you want to talk about before I sleep?"

"No," Prism said after a long moment of hesitation. "You can go ahead, I'll keep watch if we need it." As before, Cane was asleep in a heartbeat, leaving Prism to aimlessly stare at the night sky and ramble at the sky once more. "You know something Cane? I really want you to get home. You have so much more of a life to live than I do, have the most kills-4 to my 1 and Diana's 2. I mean, you've got a girlfriend, a family, I know District 4 is so much more exciting than the life here in the arena. To be honest I don't think your girl would take it kindly if the man trying to steal her's made it out. I don't think that I'd have to explain it, but I'm in love. Just, yeah, I think that's how I want you out. I hope you aren't awake when I give this to you, considering that might be weird, but, I'll be dying soon, and if it's in the arms of the my first crush, then I'm satisfied."

He chuckled awkwardly to himself, tracing the stars in the night in the shape of a heart in a way he always considered stupid, but it fit the night rather well. "It's just a hug, I hope you don't kill me for it, but at least it isn't a crush-hehe. I'm just going to miss you when I die. I'll get you to your girl if it's the last thing I do. Anything for you my love." Prism turned 17 years old that day, and he took the warmth radiating from Cane's body as his best present ever. "Thanks again."

Their alliance would last another two days, an ambush from the tributes from 11 and 5 ended with three of the four people involved clutching at their throats in agony. Prism looked at his ally, by now the only one left standing in pain, silently pleading at him to speed it up. The smile that was on Prism's face was slightly scarred by tears as his crush, the 17 year old Cane Festus, plunged Prism's dagger into his heart, ending his life instantly. Prism kept his promise, and the boy from District 4 made it home to his girlfriend, unfortunately oblivious to the love bestowed by Prism Tanzite until the next year. If they'd meet in another life, they wouldn't know, but long after they both died, several years after the cancellation of the hunger games, a blond boy and a green eyed boy met on the shores of District 4 once more.

 **Hey Guys Hopps here,**

 **I wanted to get in some character development from a different side, and this made sense to me. It was hard, but I decided to elaborate on why I think that the careers are more accepting of homosexuality. I know, it's probably ridiculous, but the Sacred Band of Thebes was a real army group, and something that I kind of take to heart as an LGBT youth.**  
 **And rethinking this, Prism was the central character, but Cane is our victor… Poor them. So tell me what you think of Cane, Prism and Diana. Honestly, I wanted to show a human side of careers after writing so many psychopaths in Quell: Choices, but tell me what you think of them.**  
 **Hopping out**  
 **Hopps**  
 **P.S. Bikaran, thank you for your names, I have enough now. Two names are for victors. And I'd love some reviews that are actually critiques of chapters and not just meaningless questions. You've been a loyal reviewer, and I'm grateful for that, but I'd like reviews with a little more meat in them. Thanks.**


	35. Dior Portchis

_**Victor #35:**_

 _ **Name: Dior Portchis**_

 _ **District: 01**_

 _ **Age During Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 035**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 93, Canus**_

"Come on, come on," the nervous woman fretted behind her cohort. Magaling had no plans to do this early in the morning, and neither did Burell Mysten, and for that matter, Pocanifure didn't. "Pocanifure, the televisions are modified with a sound system, right?"  
"Yep!" the escort replied eagerly. This year was her tenth year of escorting for District 3, and while she may have gotten quieter, her enthusiasm was still there. "I've also swirled about the egg salad and candy canes and whatever we may need. ANYTHING FOR MY BURRBY!"

Even in times of stress, Mags still had the moment to take a brief laugh at Burell's ridiculous nickname, incorporated her first year of escorting for District 3. She was about to ask Burell for more information before the door to the roof opened. "908!" she said frantically. "District 1 got the message?" The middle aged avox for Radiance nodded.

"They're on their way up?" Once again, she nodded. "Set the tables, we need to make this a believable facade of a late night Hunger Games victory party."

"Mags," Burell interrupted. "Wolfgang's on the line for District 1, Kiliman's on for District 2, and Phineas has Covine contacting the Estius' home. No one's responding for the rest of the Districts, didn't expect them to but-"

"Thanks Burell, just adjust the white noise amplifiers, if news gets out this early then the 35 of us may not make it home," Mags lamented. "THey should be here soon. I have no idea where Ismay is. All of our lives are on the line if this fails, but it's critical."

"Understood. And camera feed shows District 11 coming up now, go greet them."

Mags dashed as fast as her 40 year old body would let her, intercepting the man and woman from District 11. "Mags," Legume Nitrate said tiredly. "Even for a late night party, it's a bit early in the morning for this."

The woman joining him, the victor of the 30th hunger games five years ago, nodded and grabbed her swollen belly tiredly. "This isn't good for my baby, Mags," Seeder Firest said. "I'd have thought you'd have known, considering you have four of your own."

"Seeder, this isn't going to take long, but we need everyone here. Where's your escort?"

"Coming up with District 5, 10, and 12. Always had a crush on Mullen. Hates what your girl did to him during his games," Legume grumbled.

"So do I. Glad the two of us share that sentiment. Do you know who else is up?"

"Just tell us where we have to meet and we'll engage in commonalities for the while," Seeder said impatiently, clutching the boomerang she always carried on her back. The two of them left to head into the staircase that guaranteed roof access, hopefully Pocanifure wouldn't deafen them. She glanced down at her watch uneasily-2:06 a.m. They needed more time, and the guards would patrol at 5:15, and just where were the other victors? She took it into her own hands, and slid down the fire escape to floor ten. Sure enough, when she entered the room, four figures were awake, aimlessly chatting about the in room bar.

"Hi Mags," Trusty Compton said warily. "We'll be up soon, we just need to get a perfect drink for such a fabulous events."

She resisted the urge to snap at them, break the beer bottles over their heads, throw them upstairs herself, but after a minute of biting her tongue she managed to say, "We have drinks up there. 908 and 502 are getting them right now. This is a serious matter."

"And here I thought this would be a celebration of the career's latest," Mullen Jolts spat.

"That too," Mags deflected. She knew that Mullen disliked the Careers, especially after his games when they came home at almost double compared to the outliers. "Come on, there's a lot of fun waiting." The four of them began to file out of the room but Mags grabbed the straggler at the back, Tody Geredine, District 12's only victor. "Tody, I trust you more than the others in this room, but President Hail is dead. Shock, Shock, break it to them as gently as possible if I'm not back in 30 minutes." The man nodded and they split up.

She ran into Jonas Mephrous on floor nine, District 9's second boy. He coughed a little bit, he was slowly gaining one due to his lack of eating. "Gerry's down with District 1 as usual, Maury and Pharlax are on their way up. I'm bringing a bag of chips." Mags nodded and ran down the stairs to District 8's floor, only to find it empty and with a note tacked on the door. _Going up soon, Delly wanted to give something to Dior, down in District 1. W.D._

Acacia Quills, the first girl to win and District 7's first stopped her as she ran past the doorway. "Streak's still in the shower. Sullivan will be up once he finishes. I'll head down with you wherever we need to if you tell me what happened," she explained. Mags barely had the breath to whisper, but she clutched on the older woman's shoulder like a buoy and whispered the same words she told Tody several floors up. "You're kidding!" Mags shook her head. "You tell Torrent?"  
"Haven't-had-the-chance," she coughed.

"I'll run with you down to your floor. I'll go with them upstairs. Just don't let them and District 1 meet. Dior' still majorly pissed at Cane." Mags nodded in understanding, and the two middle aged women slid down the stairs.

Mags continued down to District 2, where Lupus herded his flock of victors out the door. "We know," Lupus said briefly before they got on the elevator, joining Spindelly Dicer, Woof Dagmar, and District 8's escort. Mags nodded and continued her trek downward, her final destination was DIstrict 1's floor, and quite the party had gathered there.

"Leopold…" she wheezed.

"Bathroom with Gerry," Radiance Mernal said with a glance as she talked with Dior Portchis and Adonis Platinum, their most recent victors. Mags ran her hands through her hair, those old rabbits couldn't keep their tails off of each other for one night, and used one hand to grab her strands as she pounded on the door.

With no response for one second too long, she kicked it open to find them, Leopold Mustang and Gerrian Tomion of District 9 still intertwined with each other on the sink counter. "YOU GUYS ARE 40 YEARS OLD! GIVE IT A FUCKING BREAK!" She screeched before slamming the door again. She could hear them grumble anxiously before they paused in what seemed to be another makeout session. She slammed her forehead against the wall-it was great that even after 27 years that they were still together, but matters needed to be conversed.

Leif Vanas and Daphne Rudrus stumbled out of their rooms in a daze. "Wow Mags, you're loud," Daphne said simply. Even after 22 years from her victory, Daphne was still the radiant beauty that was one of two survivors of the career implosion. She couldn't say the same for Leif, who after 32 years wore the pain of losing his son during Minercal's year terribly.

Leif knocked at the door, barking orders at the lovers and got them out of the room. They were still needing to be dressed somewhat, Gerrian's ear was bleeding slightly and Leopold's shirt was on backwards. "Love.." Leif grumbled.

They met at the elevator, all 8 of them, and stumbled in as the elevator reached their floor. Mags glanced at her watch as the lift went past floor 1. It was now 2:26. In 4 minutes Tody, or Onix, or Acacia would break the news if they hadn't reached the roof by then. They were forced to take a detour as the elevator stopped on floor 4. The doors opened and Dior Portchis charged at Cane Festus, knocking him to the ground. "Hold the elevator!" Adonis commanded as he and Mags ran out.

"HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU NOT KNOW?!" Dior said as he pummeled the District 4 victor.

"JUST BACK OFF YOU ALGAE SCUM!" Cane said as he moved his hands to Dior' neck. Mags turned to Perry Tryphus, the last District 4 victor before the Quarter quell, and nodded at him to help her slide Cane from below Dior. Adonis turned to Current Ripper and asked for his help from prying Dior off of the Four boy. With much struggling, both boys were finally restrained in arm locks and they struggled over to the elevator.

"Acacia, I thought you'd have been up by now," Mags whispered as the other victors crowded in the elevator, giving ample room to account for Dior and Cane's thrashings. The elevator was rather crowded as it rose the remaining 9 floors, on accord of the 15 victors all rising at once.

"Cane was stalling, working out an explanation as to how he felt about Prism," Acacia whispered back.

"None of us know how he didn't know about Prism," she replied. The year before-Cane's year-, Prism Tanzite of District 1 fell in love with Cane, and he didn't reciprocate his feelings back. He couldn't, what with girlfriend and his heterosexuality, but the clues were pretty obvious. The elevator hit 13 at 2:32, Tody and Onix surely must have told the rest of them by now, and MAgs was sure that by the time Dior and Cane were able to be carried out of the elevator and onto the roof, it would be 3:00 a.m.

Torrent Swell, District 4's very first victor, took Cane by the legs and walked with Perry out of the elevator. Acacia held the door open for the three of them, and continued to hold it for the rest of the victors to head out. Gerry and Leo stopped to make out in the doorway, as always, and Seeder's trusty boomerang got them moving again. Mags was the last person to leave the hallway, right after Adonis and Leif carrying Dior , and shut the door tightly behind her. "Okay, everyone here?" she asked, slightly out of breath. "Lupus Marterus, Torrent Swell, Leif Vanas, Romulus Cobalt, Acacia Quills, Legume Nitrate, Leopold Mustang, Gerrian Tomion, Spindelly Dicer, Current Ripper, Cleopatra Anatullah, Daphne Rudrus, Jonas Mephrous, Trusty Compton, Razer Castle, Streak Virous, Woof Dagmar, Burell Mysten, Radiance Mernal, Lumin Valor, Irumn Ferl, Perry Tryphus, Onix Mintus, Maury Everickson, Mullen Jolts, Andromeda Fenwire, Adonis Platinum, Seeder Firest, Minercal Carbon, Sullivan Annistar, Pharlax Troughis, Cane Festus, and Dior Portchis. Escorts, Pocanifure, Conquisha, Frillonde, Tryptophan, Kipper, Meridian, Cassiopoeia, Ismay, Jury, and Cadwell. 908 and 504. Wolfgang, Kiliman, Gillian, Covine-YOU SHOULD BE IN BED! Okay, I understand, at the Estius', but get to sleep. That's all of us, right? I said all 50, right Burell?"

He shrank away as he shook his head no. "WHO THE FUCK DID I NOT CALL?!"

"...you didn't say your own name, Mags," he said with a whimper. Pocanifure ran over to him rapidly and clenched him in a hug.

"Oh," she said tiredly. "Sorry guys, but, I think that you all know that we aren't here to talk about Dior' victory."

"I told them Mags," Tody spoke up. "But I think the party you brought with you doesn't know."

District 1 shook their heads simultaneously. "I recieved word from an agent in the President's council, Vavonius Ultima, that our dear President Hail has perished following dinner with his family and the council a couple of days ago. There has been unrest in the Districts, which is why we can't get home. Power has been shifting in the Districts according to Snow. I think you may recognize him as the President's secretary. He's the councilman with the most contact to us, and is one of five candidates running for presidents."

Silence now made its way through the densely populated roof. "Who are the rest of them?" Lumin Valor of District 2 asked.

"I only have direct confirmation on three," Mags explained. "Coriolanus Snow, the secretary is one of them. He's already known in the political circles as the son of Copernicus Snow. I'm sure most of us recognize him as the games minister. He has high support from the gamemakers, and escorts if I'm not mistaken."

"Yep," the District 2 escort, Frillonde said airily. "My husband's one of his biggest supporters. And Snow pays for our vacations to the ruins of Toronto."

"The Gamemakers want him to become head gamemaker as well," Cassiopeia said. "My daughter's works with them as a structural consultant."

"Then the next one is leading in the popular vote, according to several polls around the broadway neighborhood. Nicolai Stessis. He wants to prioritize with securing the lands around Panem, prohibit free range movement even more so, increase the hold on the media. Tody, Ismay, correct me if I'm wrong, but in District 12, there is a sizable amount of the population that relies on the wilderness outside of District 12 for food?"

To her surprise, Ismay speaks up. "THey trade where their former Victor's Park used to be. Now a warehouse but slowly falling out of disuse."

"Thank you," she replied. "The third is probably a puppet, she has vague words about furthering the interests of the Capitol into bettering life. She didn't specify where, but prioritizes a stronger Panem through an army. Calcutta Weld."

"She's my mom," Pocanifure says rather loudly. "She thought I was too loud, so she sent me to the mental hospital at a young age. She's going to eliminate the welfare through less schools. It won't be pretty."

She hugged Burell tighter, causing him to almost gasp for air before being buried in Pocanifure's frilly dress. "THat's all I know, are there any remarks from those viewers at home?"

"Mags, sorry to interrupt, but I know who else is running," Adonis spoke up as he loosened his grip on Dior. He motioned for Perry to do the same for Cane, but they still had the boys behind them. "Perrine Ponicherry told me, Damian Maritius. He's not popular now, but wants to distribute wealth more evenly, give it to District 12 and more of the younger Districts."

"How did you come across this information?" Irumn Ferl asked oddly as she bit off a piece of chicken leg.

"I'm, I'm one of her best customers. She wants me to handle her like a real man would," he admitted, pushing his glasses up as he gripped the corners of his eyes. "That's all I know. I hope that helps."

"It does, Adonis," Onix said reassuringly. "Word is also getting out about Loquell Hearth in the running. I had several talks with peacekeepers before coming back here. I can't confirm nor deny these though. But he wants to tear us apart even more. The Victor's Lounge, gone, training centers, gone, alliances, gone, _Sponsor support_ gone."

"So he's gonna cancel the careers?" Pharlax asked hopefully. "I think I can support that guy."

"Don't jump the gun on that, Pharlax. He's also going to do what Calcutta promises. If what Mags says is true about Calcutta being a puppet, then I think we found her master."

"I still don't see how that's kind of a bad thing," Woof replied. "Half of your kids have made it home over the years, and all of us struggle to reach even half that."

"When we see an opportunity, we jump," Romulus Cobalt said.

"Doesn't excuse you all for teaching baby killers," Maury said disdainfully.

"Like Romulus said, 25 years ago we were given an opportunity to save our kids' lives, we did what we needed," Current defended.

"Guys," Cleopatra spoke up. "We're not to blame for your incompetence about this manner."

"So you're blaming us for our children's death?" Sullivan asked, his voice rising.

"Like you didn't use your gift," Minercal said in an almost whisper.

"We're doing what we think is right," Torrent defended.

"My cousin DIED because who she went up against was illegally trained," Gerrian managed to cough out.

"Not good," Burell murmured. Mags had to agree with him, she was the only one who heard him, but tensions were now rising high, Woof was getting closer and closer to Andromeda, blaming her for the death of many others, preventing their only chances for years, and she was hyperventilating, demanding space. Gerrian and Leopold, normally so intertwined, argued fiercely with hasty grabs at the shoulders and minor pushes. Seeder moved to the back of the room, avoiding confrontation from Current Ripper, and clutched at her stomach even as she accidentally bumped into Streak.

"STREAK!" Pocanifure screeched.

He fell off of the building, Seeder was holding onto his hand by the fingertips, but she's 8 months along, and she couldn't hold him for much longer. "HELP!" Streak called up.

Adonis, Torrent, and Lupus, by far the strongest victors, ran over to the man, and worked together to bring him up. He gasped heaving breaths and ran into Acacia's arms, hugging her tightly and whispering crazily. "I didn't do anything that you wouldn't have done," Cane said as he held Dior in a nelson hold.

"You broke my best friend's heart. YOU didn't even acknowledge his feelings. Why the fuck were you so stupid?" he retorted, breaking free and punching Cane in the face.

"Don't call me stupid, you piss wipe," Cane said with a kick. They were on the floor, fighting like they haven't left the arena, ending up with blood leaking from their noses and chipped teeth. It wasn't until Delly jumped on the snarling boys and hugged them, restraining them until they finally stopped, still seething with rage, but not wanting to hurt the 9th victor.

"We don't hold the past against us. Everyone did what they had to do to get out. We all know that, don't we?" Delly asked. The rest of the victors nodded, Romulus even breaking a small smile. "I was told that when I left the arena, and it still holds true now. I gave us all animals because we are all connected to each other in the great circle of life, real or unreal, and we are the only ones who know what we've been through. If we're going to get our tributes out, then we do it together. You guys being careers, not something I approve of, but understand why all those years ago, Lupus, Romulus, Leif, Leopold, Torrent, and Current agreed of, you need this to bring your tributes out." Delly was weird, but she was the nicest person in the group, and everyone listened to her. "If you still have something to settle, settle it in the bedroom. It worked for leopard and bear over there. Or take it outside. We're sick of you two fighting."

The boys looked at each other with contempt, they'd talk about it soon, but they were at a peace, and allowed the discussion to continue. "Now Mags," Wolfgang spoke up. "Why do we need to know all of this?"

She snapped out of her daze and clarified. "Actually, I don't think Onix is done speaking, unless any of you three have anything to say on the matter."

Wolfgang, Kiliman, and Gillian shook their heads no, and let the man from District 2 continue. "He'll also revoke the advantages the victors have. Parcel day, our pension-Irumn, you're still supporting Mr. Ford, aren't you? Mags, your children. Lupus, Crista's child. Perry, your wife. Tody, your sister. All of us will be affected in the same way, less money, and more power. Victor's villages, gone. Seeder, how's life in District 11 for you? Good now that you're a victor, I assume. But imagine the population, breaking their backs longer, harder, all for less, and-"

"You've made your point," Lumin interrupted. "We're in a fragile peace, and we need to work with those who support those who we think is the best."

"None of them," Kiliman, the head trainer at the Peacekeeper academy spoke up. "Life is only going to change, and it doesn't seem like the best. Lumin, headmistress, I trust that you have the best judgement on things, I'll leave this in your hands. Good night everyone."

"I'll turn in too. This seems like a matter best left to you all, Wolfgang you follow?" Gillian asked. Leopold's brother nodded and turned off his screen. "Good luck guys, we'll be behind you."

"Honestly, the best choice, according to Mags right now, seems to be Snow. I know we all loathe his father, outer districts more so, but, we wouldn't be here. I'm supporting Snow, he's safer than the rest of the puppets," Lumin declared. The rest of their victors nodded behind her in support.

"We'll be with you, might as well be united as possible. District 1 stands by our partners and Snow," Leif declared.

"As will District 4," Mags said.

All around the roof, the 'party' agreed, though Trusty was the very last to agree on accord of the careers being quite untrusty. "Not so sure if we can trust the son of the guy who started the careers, but might as well go along with it," she grumbled.

"I'd think you'd know the most about trust," Razer said jokingly. The tension fizzled, his good jokes knew how to get the party going, and Mags let them off to bed. "Goodnight Mags," Razer said, closing the door behind him.

"Not you two," Mags said, grabbing Cane and Dior as they tried to open the door. It was now 4:36, about an hour and a half until cleaning avoxes would clean the roof. "You have a lot of shit to talk about. Let's see if we can get through it all."

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here  
Hands, down, longest chapter. I'm sorry if it had to go this way, considering I've covered longer time periods in a shorter amount of time, but I was trying to give every victor a speaking role, and besides Andromeda, I think I got it. And I'm so sorry if you guys needed resolution on Cane's arc-Bikaran I tried to make him the main character, alongside Cane, unlike my attempt last chapter, but the power shift is kind of critical, and-sorry.  
Tell me what you think, as always, and let me know how I can improve the next chapter. Hoo-boy, I might need it. He appears in canon, and I'm not going to be 'Heart the Squid' but I hope that my eventual rendition of him will be sound.  
Hopping out  
Hopps**

 **P.S. Bikaran, all three of the Districts you expressed desire for having another victor for are coming up soon, well, District 1 is here, but 8 and 10 are on the horizon**


	36. Beetee Latiers

_**Victor #36:**_

 _ **Name: Beetee Latiers**_

 _ **District: 03**_

 _ **Age During Games: 15**_

 _ **Games: 036**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 088, Kacey**_

There are some things that can't be understood. It doesn't take a genius to know that, but the very statement often sends brilliant minds into lengthy discussion, oftentimes losing their minds. Why some people in District 3 grow taller than 6 feet when the general population barely cracks five foot six, how some careers were so stupid to walk into traps when they were so damn obvious, why everything needs a label when it's just a meaningless word to describe something, just some of them for thought. For the mind of young Beetee, he couldn't understand, just simply couldn't, and try what the government tried to 'help' him with, he still didn't.

 **He doesn't understand why the elder of the Latiers boys died**

Router Latiers was reaped for Hunger Games 30. Before that he worked in one of those arcade machine makers, for amusement parks and resort hotels. He was in the middle of leading seven others in an arcade machine based off of Gerrian Tomion's failed attempts to save his cousin when he was reaped. At 16 years old, he was one of the older tributes, but about the same size as the District 5 boy that year, who was a year younger. Router got a 5 for his training score, but it didn't do much good when he fell to the District 7 boy in the bloodbath.

In Beetee's eyes, his brother was observant, he saw the spear coming at his stomach, Router was flexible, he could have bent over. Beetee doesn't understand the notion about 'deer in the headlights'. He doesn't understand fight or flight. Not yet, and he wouldn't understand it as the girl from District 11 threw her boomerang at the 7 boy during the feast, the blade shouldn't have been enough to cut his throat. He wouldn't understand fight or flight until he would be reaped 6 years later at 15 years old.

 **For that matter, why were both of them reaped?**

Their parents were rich, like in the top 20% of the Districts, in a District where only the bottom 20% took out tesserae, therefore most of the tributes came from them. He didn't need to take out tesserae, he was an average District 3 boy with 3 slips in the ball compared to the possible thousands that could have fit. He doesn't know that both his parents are children of Dark Day dissidents, the ones who tried to wire several televisions for the Capitol and elsewhere to deliver messages to the fellow rebels. But that was years ago and they have since been living comfortably. Beetee doesn't understand the concept of 'Sins of our Fathers,' and he never will, even after he leaves the arena 2 weeks since he rises on the platform.

 **Why were the games being held that year?!**

It's the most infuriating question, Calcutta Weld, Pocanifure's mother, ' _a noob_ ' in politics, gets the vote. She takes power during the meager mid-winter months, and Pocanifure is hugging Burell even tighter than she normally does. "Pocanifure," he asks his escort. "What makes you think your mother is a terrible president?"

"I DO NOT THINK THAT!" she shouts. Beetee's thankful that all the rooms in the train are soundproof, and that the peacekeepers are occupied in another train for now. Pocanifure has a loud voice, very loud, and it's gotten quieter over the years, but still the ear piercer. "SHE IS THE BEST PRESIDENT EVER! I LOVE MY MOM AND SHE IS THE BEST PRESIDENT! HER MODUS OPERANDI IS THE BEST THING EVER! MENTAL INSTABILITY IS A CRIME THAT HINDERS THE ADVANCEMENT OF THE GLORIOUS NATION THAT IS PANEM AND SHE IS DOING HER BEST TO QUASH IT!"

That poor woman...and poor Burell. Burell has basically functioned as her stuffed animal since she started mentorng. Moreover, if her main plan is to enhance the advancement of Panem, then why kill who could very well be the most brilliant minds. _Come on Beetee, if you were so brilliant then you wouldn't even be in this mess_ he scoffs to himself. But, maybe, if he were to escape, then Panem could expand. Maybe, if he were to make it out.

 **Everyone in District 3 is a prodigy, so why is he considered smart?**

This shouldn't help him stand out at all, especially in the likes of Burell Mysten, their only victor. Every District 3 teenager takes courses in technology and wiring. It helps them in the arena when they get the chance, often times scoring a kill because of just plain dumb luck, but every District 3 student knows how to make a bomb.

Supposedly it has to deal with the advances in the curriculum brought by Burell, and the most skilled are shipped off to other Districts and the Capitol for necessary land clearing and demolition. The stylists take advantage of this, and dress him as a lighter and his partner, a girl named Gladys as a bomb. He feels ridiculous with flames on his head, he doesn't even work with bombs.

No, like some other 5% of the teenage population, he's skilled at wiring. He knews how to convert joules to kilowatts in his head-a kilowatt is a joule divided by the product of period and a value of 1000- and where to immediately ground a bolt. They have several stations devoted to electricity that year, odd, but Burell notes that they can sometimes adjust the training facility for needs of the arena. It doesn't help harassment from the careers, a bunch of snobs and dastards. It could work in his favor...a girl several years ago won because the careers were total oafs. He'd have to thank her if he made it out. If he saw her, and if she saw him.

 **Why would he escape the bloodbath at the expense of 10 others?**

His interview was quiet, he spoke in the expansive and long-winded terms ingrained for the students of District 3. He was a walking thesaurus that night as he dodged most of Caesar's attempts at banter. Certainly he'd be a forgettable tribute, and they'd put him next to one of the careers, maybe Corinth, the boulder tossing male champion of District 2, or Marian, the lethal vixen of District 1, or Andrew, the hurricane from District 4.

To his surprise, he's not next to anyone of note, just between the young tributes of District 9 and the spoiled District 5 girl. They're set on a hill too, most of the careers are set near the top of the hill, but the mouth of the cornucopia is facing the bottom, straight in front of the boys from District 10 and 7 and Gladys and the girl from District 11. The gong rings after 60 seconds, as usual, and he runs to the midfield of the cornucopia. He grabs two backpacks before a stray crate knocks him to his feet and sends him tumbling. He would later find out that Haiyan of District 4 would have been throwing the crates in a rage after letting the girl from District 11 slip.

He'd recover after a nearly 50 feet tumble, and run back to the top of the large hill, probably the remains of an old observatory, and he'd camp under the metal awning for several days. For the first night, it was restless as he saw a sea of 10 faces travel across the sky. Districts 1 and 2 didn't lose anything. Gladys perished, as did Haiyan, oddly enough. Then both tributes from District 5, the girl from District 7, both from District 8, both from District 9 and the boy from District 11.

 **What caused the careers to pick the boy from District 12?**

Normally the District 12, the kids are young, starved, and besides the wrestling team (with little to no participants, from what Burell tells him) they aren't strong at all, and the boy looks somewhat strong, despite him having that 'seam' look. At best, Beetee determines that the boy, who can't be a year older than he is, stuck around after the death of the girl from District 4, or caused her death, and he was let in. The arena's down to seven, Beetee and the careers, and he spies on them, locates their plan of attack. In the arena they sweep the former area of the main telescope, then the old hardware locations, then the maze of stairways, then the grounds before settling in the cornucopia.

His time is limited. As soon as they leave the the old hardware storage, he sets his trap. If he isn't careful, it'll kill him if they don't die the next day. They sweep 1 hours in the main expanse, two in the hardware storage, 4 in the maze of stairways, and 5 in the grounds. They aren't smart, considering that they waste half of the day in total for their sleep, or whatever it is bloodthirsty killers can do. The trap involves wiring the floor, it'll take 18 valuable hours to rip apart the floorboards, luckily he's been working on it and three eighths of the floor tiles have been removed in the weeks he took devising the plan.

The computers have wires stemming from them, a lot of wires _how could the ancient americans survived with this much of a fire hazard?!_ They would help spread the current to the walls, locking the door, and preventing all routes of escape. If it deploys...and it does.

 **How was he the only one out of 7 teenagers to survive?**

District 12, steamed off and running in a hurry stumbles into the hardware and computer room, falling on the wires, accidentally completing the current for the next day's trap. Beetee can hear his screams as the boy writhes in pain, convulsing from the numerous wires flailing about. He dies, but not after he lures the careers over. The wires for the escape routes were not complete, and the careers mistake his flailing in pain on the floor as Beetee's direct actions. Well, yeah, but then again, it was by proxy. They step onto the tiles, the boy from District 1 falls onto a computer and completes the escape route current, his blond hair leaves his head smoky and charred, blackening his pale skin to a dark obsidian.

Beetee's scared, trapped in a room with 5 alive killers and an electric current, he dodges from rubber cabinet to rubber cabinet, clutching at the condoms that he uses as a buffer to protect himself. _Just who let Pocanifure near the sponsor desks?_ The girl from District 2 tries to throw a knife, it lodges in the wood paneling and explodes in a spark. Andrew takes to the windows to escape, forgetting the sparks that periodically jump from it. He falls with one hand still on the bars, and his body convulses against the paneling of the wall.

Beetee's nimble, and he tries to jump from one cabinet to another, but falls on Corinth and Marian. The girl from District 2 has since died in a spark shot, a while ago, and Beetee falls unconscious, sure he'd never wake up again. The next time he wakes up, Burell smiles at him tiredly and Pocanifure clutches at him like a teddy bear. It's his first reminder he's alive, but how?

 **It's odd how the best of friends come from the strangest places, isn't it?**

The first career he talks to is Mags Saros, one of the first career girls to win, and one of the eldest in the room. He asks her this question as they mull about the lounge, drinking and observing and making notes on the technology of District 4 gps systems. "We're a bunch of weird people huh?" she jokes. "Granted, all of us don't get along with everybody, I'm not on good terms with Mullen, but other than that, my relationships are peachy."

"But why though?" he inquires.

"You're only 15, and you just need to know that some things can't be explained. Lupus over there, were-teddy bear as we call him, promotes all of this. Likes the family network we all have. Fierce, but we're family. And we're glad to have you as one of us," she explains. Beetee still doesn't understand them, but the warmth from the room certainly is irreplaceable, and quite frankly, the best thing he's felt since leaving the arena.

 **Why are they switching presidents again?  
** They make the announcement when he reaches District 6. Pocanifure is shocked, but she hasn't really been close to her mom, and it doesn't affect her as much as it should. Either way, when he reached the Capitol, Loquell Hearth is by no means a push over. He's surprised at Beetee though, and lets him off with light words of encouragement and the opportunity to collaborate with Mullen Jolts, District 5's only victor. He accepts, and he doesn't know that Calcutta Weld has perished after a nightly swim.

He asks the question again only a year later. Hearth is president for a mere 9 months, and news travels to him in an e-mail, and the new president, a man about his father's age with snake like eyes and an odd sneer. Coriolanus is also a decade younger than both Weld and Hearth, very much in his prime. What follows in the first year of Snow's term is harder work, a little more limits here and there, security added to the walls of the District. Under his tense security is when Beetee first meets the Groundworkers, subterranean rebels. They train him in hacking, a far cry from wiring, and he catches quick, Beetee's a fast learner.

He's the first person to find computer signals from District 13's former location.

 **Who would be dumb enough to accept that he died in a faulty wiring accident?  
** The news travels as fast as it does to bring a new victor home. An electric fire, contained in his bedroom, Beetee found charred and limp on the floor. "Quite the terrible accident," Snow mourns. He's quashed a rebellion by crippling the leaders, and their spokespersons-the victors a little over a decade ago, and Beetee was "An invaluable person who will be sorely missed. His great mind inspires us all to move on," or Snow says.

Wiress, a little crazy but District 3's best mentor, knows otherwise. She knows that Beetee's too smart to fall for his own traps, for his own mistakes, Beetee is a legend gone too fast, and it's about time Wiress picks up the slack.

Like her mentor before her, she discovers more of District 13.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
One more canon victor checked off the list. Beetee's trap is something elusive. I don't know if the one described here could work, but very exciting, no? Regardless, tell me what you think of my rendition of Beetee Latiers of Hunger Games 36, District 3's second. I tried to mix in some politics here and there, but I don't think it merged, so that's probably going to wear it down..(scream).**

 **After the 30's, the careers will end up winning a little bit less, like I've said, about one victor per career district per decade. With the way I have it planned out, District 2 will eventually end up with the most, then District 4 (though not for a while) then District 1. This will also incorporate post hunger games 74 totals, so..yeah. Also, I'll be doing an SYOT for Hunger Games 150. More information on that, when it comes to it.  
Hopping out  
Hopps  
P.S. Bikaran, thank you for the input. Districts 8 and 10 are coming soon, and District 10 has a tribute name you submitted. Thanks again**


	37. Weaven Loomis

**_Victor #37:_**

 ** _Name: Weaven Loomis_**

 ** _District: 08_**

 ** _Age During Games: 16_**

 ** _Games: 037_**

 ** _Death: Third Quarter Quell_**

"Bring her out," a stern voice commanded. District 8, such a rambunctious District, but their actions after proposal night resulted in a severe crackdown. The woman in the splintering bunk, barely five foot six at 53, had three children over her life, and mentored one victor through her mentoring career, just like her mentor. She knew loss, and the man could tell that these losses plagued her. "Take Weaven to the first interrogation room. Keep guns at ready."

The men who held her in her hands nodded and went down the hallway. Their commanding officer pulled out a file from his coat pocket and fixed the rose he kept in his coat pocket. He held a small light up to the papers in the claustrophobic hallways of the out-District prison. A picture of a girl, 16 years old with light blond hair and prominent hazel eyes stared out to him with a firm grimace. Underneath her name, Weaven Loomis, depicted her training score, various odds on arrival, and general approval rating.

This poll was taken last year, where surveyors asked if they enjoyed a victor or not. This was before the berries, before the stupid star crossed lovers, before the rebellions in Districts 3,4,8, and 11. As was expected, Finnick Odair had a 98% approval rating, the highest for all 73 victors. Weaven herself sat at 45%, below average, but not the worst (that was Levora from District 6 and Jumper from District 5).

"Very well. Wake her up," Snow commanded into his radio. The voice on the other end replied in approval, and Snow could hear thuds in the background, the sound of hard rubber hitting flesh, and the girl screamed. She was calmed down, and directed to eat. Snow opened the door to the first interrogation room slowly. She was prodding a roll of bread, aimlessly moving her finger around the rim of an open orange juice goblet.

"I don't know anything," she said defensively.

Snow raised a thin white eyebrow. "Really? I promised you that I wouldn't lie. The very least that you can do is the same for me, not unless we need more encouragement."

The woman shut up, this would be significantly more easy. "You know Weaven, just before I obtained the presidency, you won the Hunger Games, and for the victory tour you were the first victor I met. This is true, no?" he asked.

"With your memory, I won't deny it. And it is true," she boldly replied. This prompted a grin, a snake's grin from president Snow, and he ordered an identical meal from his guards. She mirrored his motions as he grabbed a drink, ever so slyly, and sipped hers warily.

"Nervous, my dear?" he taunted.

"It is just a simple dinner, and I intend to tell you nothing but the truth," she replied confidently.

"And you have had that same mentality ever since you won the games. You always were one of my favorites, you and Leopold both my most favorite. Sadly, with Leopold passing last year, I only have you to talk about in my home at the capitol. My daughter was a big fan of District 8 before her passing all too soon. Tell me, do you happen to know anything else about District 8's rebellion precisely 3 months, 2 weeks, 4 days, 5 hours, and 2 seconds ago?"

"All I happen to know is that the main target for the supposed rebellion was the media outlet. I wouldn't blame them, that outlet wires much more electricity than it needs. I ask you Snow, are these outlets visible in every District, where they happen to take as much electricity?"

"You know a lot of this, are you sure you weren't involved?"

"Word got out around the District quickly, and I'm sure that not all of us were involved."

"You are aware that we have made five dozen arrests in that time, each attributed to as many peacekeeper deaths, and we have been on lockdown for District 8 for 7 days after the rebellion. Butter for your roll?" She hesitates at the question and softly shakes her head no. "It seems like we really aren't getting new information from you, I guess you were telling the truth. I believe breakfast here is done. Guards, send her back to her cell, and please notify her family about her apparent passing. It was a shame too, I would have loved to see my favorite victor go through her toughest trial."

"Mister President, before they go, am I permitted to ask two more questions?" Weaven pleads hastily as the guards grab her by the limbs and she falls slack to the floor.

"What do you mean by toughest trial? And I'm still alive: Why are you reporting me as dead?"

President Snow looks over the middle aged woman with a look of thick judgement in his eyes. He shoves a slip of paper into the guard on her left side's hands. "Give it to her when she's in her cell. The poison in her orange juice will act in 5 days, no more, no less, we've calculated it, and I took the antidote just before we ate. I'll Miss you, Miss Loomis, you always were one of my favorites."

The guards drag her to her cell with relative ease. All the fight after six days of imprisonment has gone out of her. She did tell them all that she knew, at the bare minimum,and her family would pay the price. "She's a lost cause," one of the guards tells her teammate.

"No more check ups on her, we got what we needed," her teammate replies. "She has a grandchild on the way, hasn't she?"

"Unfortunate. Hopefully justice will be swift," another voice chimes in.

The three of them walk down the hallway through the District prison. Weaven's the only occupant of this room, more than likely she'll be the last. Fifty conspirators were here, and she knows that Cecelia got word out, but Weaven was more open of a participant. Feebly, she crawls to the envelope and weakly opens it. It reeks of rose perfume and orange juice. She is nauseated, and the words swirl around on the card in an elegant script, but ever so slowly, no doubt hindered by the poison in her, she reads it aloud.

"To remind us all how the...Hunger Games was the result of the sins...of our ancestors, all tributes...reaped must have a relation to a victor, be it cousin, mother, father, or child," she struggles out. The tears fall onto the paper as she realizes the true connotation of this quell. Her daughter, her only child left, Harriet, pregnant at 5 months along, no longer with luxury as soon as she dies, her only family left.

Her husband left her after she failed to bring home Cabot in the Second Quell and five years later, Hanson. Cabot was the elder of two twins, born almost immediately before Zephyr's victory, and fell at 13 years old to the District 2 beast that year. She gets a headache, even more of one when she remembers Hanson, Cabot's identical twin brother, deceased five years later in the 55th to poisonous gases. She knows she isn't the only victor to lose a child to the games, but she could very lose all three, including her grandchild.

She screams as she realizes, a harrowing one, and just for once, she wants someone to tell her to shut up. It only gets louder as the days goes on, when she remembers she isn't the only victor at stake. Woof has a wife, her nephews and nieces and siblings would be up. Her name is Marta...five years younger than Woof, he's 70 or so now.

There are days where she sleeps, only sleeps, and no one is there. Spindelly Dicer appears to her, her mentor for the hunger Games, they'd alternate until Cecelia won, and until Delly died. Women don't live long in the factory District, and she was gone at 61, no children, no significant other, or anything of note. She was a community home kid, no one left.

She thinks she's been in there about 3 weeks or so, no food, no water. She hasn't felt this way since before 16, tesserae was an occasional treat if even that, and even then she had to work for it. Her only communication is a television that wheels in once every 3 days or so, and she sees the mandatory viewing going on. The pain from District 8's victor's village surely travels to her, a dozen or so simultaneous cries.

Cecelia, she needs to look out for her, her only victor in her career, and the latest girl in a while, winning in the late 50's. She has three siblings and three children, and both of her parents are still alive. Audley, her oldest at 11, is barely eligible, as is her middle child, 10-year old Matthis. The only one that could be spared besides Cecelia is the little five year old scamp,aptly named Scamp.

At times, she laughs. Some memories that flash through her mind that were only accumulated after years of motherhood. She remembers taking Harriet, barely 5 or 8 years old at the time, to Hunger games...damn, what was it? Hunger games 56, Cecelia's year, yeah. Her face lit up as she worked with Mommy at the sponsor hotspots, like the High Broadway shopping street, and the little lake boat rides, and they brought home Sister Cecelia. Her laughs are choked, but they're genuine, and her only source of joy in the prison.

Then Shaun, their most recent, having won with only a 3, he fought hard to get out, and he's a mess. Two siblings who don't talk to him at all, two kids from both of them, two girls, two boys, a girlfriend who's barely even there., and a big messed up life. Granted, all the victors have a big messed up life, and Shaun's been one of the most popular victors, if only for his rugged voice alone.

The last person she thinks about is her mother, now 15 years dead, and she can feel her warm touch as she rubs her hand on her forehead. She can't talk anymore, it's been what, three and a half weeks? Her mom hugs her for the last time, a gift that she desparately wants to give Harriet the last days of her life. The peacekeepers pull her body out on a routine trip, when the season is still cold and the look of grief is frozen on her face. Her head's oddly warm. They contact her next of kin, Harriet Loomis, now 6 months along, she'll be 8 when the reaping occurs, and explain to her that they found the body.

The grave is watered with tears as the casket lowers slowly into the hole. Harriet can't train like the other kids around Victor's village, and she knows she's screwed when the reaping comes along.

Her name is called, an 11 year old girl won't let her go.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
Once again, we have another time skip. Another look at the reactions to the AU third Quarter Quell, and we have our first confirmed tribute. And I've spoiled how many Victors District 8 gets, but ah well.**

 **And Bikaran, here we are, District 8's second girl, teenage mother and distraught grandmother. So, tell me, what do you think of her? How's the setting? General thoughts.  
Also, something of sad news. My school is starting up soon, and it has a hectic magnet high schedule, so some of the chapters may not be out as frequently as they did this summer.  
But let me know what you think, as always, and thanks for reading  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	38. Zephyr Cavalieus

**_Victor #38:_**

 ** _Name: Zephyr Cavalieus_**

 ** _Age during Games: 18 years old_**

 ** _District: 02_**

 ** _Hunger Games: 038_**

 ** _Death: Hunger Games 110, Tausret_**

The Victor's lounge is quiet in the morning. A new president allowed the expansion of the lounge to become truly a regal sight, the legendary tapestry created by District 8's first victor now covers the entirety of the wall closest to the center of the room. There's still room for more, and Razer Castle of District 2 works with that very victor late into the night at the top of the tapestry, using the rough tool of chalk to create a loose outline for the arena that year, a floating zeppelin, thousands of feet in the air. District 2 brought home another victor this year, 18 year old Zephyr. If Delly's pissed about it, it doesn't show, hell it never does, she's almost never pissed.

They're both deeply immersed in their work that they don't take time to notice one of the other occupants, Zephyr of this year, mourning at the bar. He noticed the trellis as he walked in, the newly built two stories allowed for more creative freedom and just much more amenities than usual. He hopes that the two at the very top don't notice him, Razer was one of the first to be trained and he'd be damned if he saw him, Razer's awkward, but ruthless, and the alcohol's clearly getting to him when he hears the door opening and closing tightly. "Come on Zeph, we don't have you drink here until a year later," headmistress Lumin chides.

"How can you stand it?" he asks in a slur.

"Xer-Zeph. We don't waste our lives on illicit goods or anything like that. I've been trying to get rid of the bar for years, but Tody and Trusty treat it as their love child. Don't ask. Besides, we don't let you in here until three days after victory, we need to unveil your portion of the tapestry. It's tradition."

"So it's tradition to feel remorse at the souls of 8 dead kids on your back?" he hisses abruptly. There are only five victors in the room at this point, Irumn is on the second level, sipping a warm glass of milk and rubbing her swolen belly, as seen through the glass floor. She had finally settled down in District 6, in spite of having lost every tribute to come after her, and her first child was on the way. "I don't know how you can live with your children, headmistress, they surely must know that their mother is a killer."

"Cut him off," Lumin directed to the bartender. The avox nodded and shut off the tap. "Head to bed, you need it. Now Zephyr-"

"'Tis but the tradition of the District to uphold the honor and will of the capitol by producing victors from its legendary gift," he interrupted mockingly.

"I understand," Lumin continued. Even after years of working at the pinnacle of District 2's peacekeeper training facility, her eyes still bore the pain of having lost so many friends in 4 days. "If you want to talk, go ahead. I won't interrupt. Lupus did the same for me years ago."

"Still don't see why you aren't hating me for backstabbing Villia, considering she was your tribute as much I'm Onix'," he grumbled.

"As headmistress, I need to see if all my friends are capable enough to keep training on at the facility. Yes Zephyr, friends. We're on the same ground now, I no longer have control of you, but I can cut you off if I see fit. Come on, I know that isn't what's eating at you, let me see if your biography from training entails anything." Her eyes went blank as she imagined the paper in front of her and read it outloud, "Name, Zephyr Cavalieus, 18 years old. Birth, five days before victory, Hunger Games #20, Radiance Mernal. Family, all dead to me… Motivations for volunteering, to give myself a worthy sacrifice. Now, I'm sure it has to deal with your dead beat iron polisher father, and your estranged mother, huh?"

He sighs dramatically and slams his fist on the table. "I forget you have the memory of an elephant, Chameleon. I kind of wish I had it, considering I'm elephant. HAHA! Jeez, the bartender can't make a stupid cleansing tonic."

"Check again, I'm making one for you," Lumin told him from behind the bar.

"When did-"

"My mother worked in the District winery, my sister took over the role, and I can make tonics rather well. Where else do you think we get the necessary materials for molotov cocktail practice?"

Zephyr looks at the shot glass in front of him before gulping it in rapidly. "Thanks. But I think you should go, I'll clear my head off for the night and I'll be up momentarily."

"You aren't a good liar, you know that, right?"

"Can't blame me for trying. What time is it anyway, four, five?"

"SEven. More of us are going in soon, and you can't present yourself like this."

"Well screw me up the ass," he complains. "I guess we need a bartender for today, and pack my bags for tomorrow, huh?"

"No, actually, I agree. You need the time to cool off. I know you've worked in the mines, and are with Romulus in mountain worship. Do you need the spiritual uplift or anything?"

"I'll check the library upstairs, I might need to recall a hymn. It's therapeutic., and it's a good comfort . Should you go get the bartender back?"

"I need to brush up on my skills behind the bar, and dammit we aren't going to serve alcoholic meals today. Not when we have two or so pregnant women here and you're still volatile. Besides, we already have like half a dozen drunkards. You're not joining them," Lumin adamantly demanded. "Go on, look around. That tonic lasts for several hours, so spend as much time as you need."

Zephyr nodded at the leader of the peacekeeper academy and made his way upstairs to the massive wall of books spanning the length from one wall to its opposite on the other. Aimlessly he pondered over a section devoted to the culture of District 2 before finding the book of hymns from years ago. He spent lots of time in the mines when his time in the Peacekeeper academy allowed it, and the messages that stuck from his bastard father were to keep his faith. He pulled out a book about an inch in diameter and rifled through it.

Most of the songs were about the cataclysmic events in the thousand years before the inceptions of the fourteen countries, then the merging of the countries, then the dark days until the Hunger Games' inception. He runs his finger over the illustration accompanying his favorite song, about the massive eruption of a long dormant volcano that destroyed most of the areas surrounding an ancient sea, and lets the words take him over as he sings them outloud.

 _All these years, and you were found_

 _Silently sleeping, not a single sound_

 _I could see your beauty in the resting frame_

 _Though you were here, all I had, was the memory of your name_

 _Lost from you when the ground fell below_

 _All those years, you were there, somehow I'd know_

 _And there you were, resting drearily_

 _Now in my dreams, I'm with you peacefully_

 _To be with you once more,_

 _All my heart, my dreams, my love_

 _Every single thing you've said._

 _Simple thoughts only flowing through my head_

 _Voices dancing through the night_

 _Screaming in such a major fright_  
~

"Contrary to popular belief, the song is not to have been attributed in regards to a lover long ago, but a daughter, separated from her father as they escaped the Plinian eruption of Ancient Vesuvius," Zephyr read the author's note aloud. Call him crazy, but he thought it was a message from a dog lover to his loyal companion, a dog from years ago. The verse he read was just one, and the rest described the comfort felt with the recipient in his arms, the warmth of her hair-or fur as he believed, and the smile that would always appear.

He rifles through the book again, stopping on an image of a mighty monument collapsing in its base into the ocean. As if to represent the collapse of the state befalling the world, an artificial archipelago was destroyed by the once mighty spire atop the tall building, noted as the tallest building in the world at the point. He could find a family in the building, holding onto each other as the tower began to collapse, and the artistry was so prominent. It's when he looks at the most distracting feature in the tiny illustration that brings tears to his eyes, the one thing unstable in the district is Family.

Family doesn't last long in the District, most children who leave home never return. Most of District 2's victors has no one in the general public to fall back on in the general populace. Romulus has since grown apart from his brother, but his children are somewhere in the facility. Cleopatra was separated by her parents, and lost her brother in the arena. Razer was an orphan, but strong, though he doesn't have many friends in of the District. Lumin's family wanted her in the winery, and she isn't on good personal terms with her mother. Minercal, much like Razer, was an orphan, strong, but lost her parents in a mine shaft collapse years ago. Only Lupus is on consistently good terms with a member of his family, and Crista is on equally good terms with the rest of the victors. Zephyr's father was a bastard who spent too much time down at the forges, but there always was a promise with him that the elder Cavalieus would make it home with more songs.

Maybe it was just because Woof Dagmar was on his mind as he remembered the song in his youth. Every Career district has a friend in the outliers, for District 4 it's District 7. In District 2, it's District 8. District 1 isn't as obvious in its camaraderie with District 9, but if Gerry and Leo, decades strong at this point, District 1 and District 9 were tight friends. The song very much reminds him of District 8, and Woof's endeavor to get back home, only to find it changed. Woof was someone of a cult classic in District 2, his story of his attempt to make him home, and the promise to his brother certainly warmed tender hearts in the District.

And who is it to break the silence after his song but Woof himself? The sound of applause resonates through the lounge, led by the only male victor from District 8. "Good job son," Woof says admirably. "Could use some of that in District 8 to revive our passion. Guess the mines treated you well."

"If you would, sing another one?" District 8's most recent, a new mother with a child not a month old, asks timidly.

"Anything for you and your children," Zephyr said bashfully, shocked at the sudden cooing of the child as he smiled.

The look on Zephyr's face as he went slack with astonishment caused a round of laughter to roar through the open second floor of the victor's lounge. He manages to catch Razer's eye from the scaffolding, and he nods approvingly. He and Lupus are quite the successful mentors, more boys made it home than girls from District 2, and it's mainly thanks to the two of them. Zephyr echoes the smile widening on Razer's face and lets Weaven sort through the hymn book. Family is going to take a while getting used to.

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here  
Sorry if the updates are going to be a little less frequent from now on, but I'm going back to school tomorrow, and this won't hinder my attempts to keep this project going on.  
I hope that this closes off summer rather well, and that you've enjoyed this so far. Tell me your thoughts on this chapter, Zephyr is the last victor of a period that I call, 'District 2's early prime.' It'll be about a decade or so before their next victory, and the next decade is going to be a little more balanced. [Birkaran, if you don't mind, leave a review like you did for Dior and Cane and Pharlax, those were great]  
Hopping out  
Hopps **_  
_**_P.S. Next chapter, the first victor dies. Barbara is going to be the first victor in a string of outlier victories, so look forward to that._**


	39. Barbara Gentrix

**_Victor #39:_**

 ** _Name: Barbara Gentrix_**

 ** _District: 05_**

 ** _Age During Games: 17_**

 ** _Games: 039_**

 ** _Death: 4th Quarter Quell_**

 _District 8, the people there were nice, yeah, but personally, the air kind of got claustrophobic at times. Three victors in 39 years, definitely not the record, but pretty damn high outside of the careers. Woof has been in a relationship for a while, but he'd be happy just with him and his future wife, from the looks of it. Delly's been trying something new, according to Mullen. And Weaven, their newest, she's got two extraordinarily cute baby boys and husband, even if she's only a year older than me._

The red-head jumps in her seat as her mentor knocks on her door. At 30 years old, he's thirteen years older than her, but honestly, he could very well be a teenager. "How's your writing going?" he asks casually.

"Talking about District 8 now, I really liked Weaven, and Delly. They gave me something about my 'animal,' a crafty beaver, something with my arena being made of wood and me utilizing the wood. Me pulling that panel was just a fluke," she quietly replies.

"Most districts win on flukes, you shouldn't be kicking yourself for it. The careers didn't give you a hard time, and that panel decimated nearly all the food supplies," he responds.

"So many of them. Scaly, tinly, slithery, all over me…" she shudders.

"You know what they say in District 2, we all have ghosts, and personally, you've lucked out."

"Sometimes I see them though. Antonius, Strata-"

"And they can't hurt you anymore. I promise you, it isn't going to get worse," Mullen tells her. Abruptly she hugs him and wraps her arms around his shoulders. He gasps slightly, like he used to when Kayden jumped on him abruptly, but he loves this feeling, when he realizes he's not in the arena anymore. It's been years since Kayden left him in that big empty house, and well, Barbara has filled the void since her victory. "Choking, it's a bit too much, my runner…"

"Sorry!" she jolts abruptly. There isn't any denial that the void Mullen has in his heart since his wife left him years ago was teh perfect fit for Barbara's love. If anything, Mullen reciprocates it for her. "I'm just glad the lizards took out the supplies at the cornucopia. When they were over me, I thought I was gone."

"Hey, lovebirds," their escort tells them as she knocks on the lining of the door. "We don't need another Gerry and Leo on us, not yet, we have hundreds of miles to go to. And we're arriving in District 7. So if the two of you would just get ready that would be nice."

"Of course Hampton, we'll be out in several moments," Mullen tells the escort. It's not a new sight to see escorts with a childish crush on the victors, they seem to funnel most to the career Districts, but Hampton just wants to be Mullen's good friend, not as bad as some escorts in the past.

She walks out of the room several minutes after her mentor and she holds his hand gently as they walk out of the train car and into the pine air of District 7. It's a tranquil sight, quiet save for wild animals and birds calling about, and the polite applause that they get from walking out. Several peacekeepers march up to her and Mullen both to the town square, shotting at a tree as they pass. "Mullen," she exclaims in fear, tightening her grip on her mentor. He flinches a little, but relents. "What-what's going on?"

"Nothing, my star," he tries to reassure her. It doesn't stop him from looking around anxiously and pulling her closer to him.

Nothing else occurs en route to the main stage, and the crowd gathers around the square in a timely manner, the two families gathered around on stages about 120 degrees from the stage. About a day after she released the lizards, Barbara ran into the 13 year old, or the thirteen year old boy ran into her. He pulled a dagger and tried to slit her throat, but was simply overpowered and dead. His name was Douglas, according to the name appearing on the screens behind his family. She makes eye contact with his little sister, not much older than her own, just as the mayor finishes his speech in front of her.

She steps forward, mindlessly reciting the speech, sculpted for Districts 9, 7, and 3. The District watches with pairs of weary eyes and plastered smiles, and behind her she can feel the inquisitive looks of their victors. They, District 9, and DIstrict 8 are the most successful of the outliers, and she can feel the heat of their gaze burning through her back. It isn't until she finishes her speech, a girl delivers her District 7's most beautiful flower, a flourish of bitterroots, that she realizes that the handsome man who was District 7's second victor isn't with their first and third. Mullen joins her on the stage and squeezes her waist ever so slightly as the peacekeepers march them off.

"Where's Streak?" she asks.

"Apparently he's resting up for tonight, we'll find him there. Hampton has your clothes set out for tonight's bonfire, it's a quaint activity, and rather fun, really electric, sparking if I could say."

"That's odd, but exciting," she says gleefully. Though the odd part is mainly directed to Streak, their second victor, gone crazy in the maze, the last in the first string of crazy victors, and the one most damaged by it, according to Mullen. " He seemed like a nice person when sane. I kind of wanted to see him before the event. He'd be a good friend, wouldn't you say?"

"Haven't really had much interaction with District 7 since my year, but they're rather nice people. Acacia's on her way to being a grandmother, but don't let Sullivan challenge you to a drinking contest. And the District is truly beautiful at night. I'll see you then."

She walks quietly into the dressing room set up lavishly against the beautiful backdrop a pine clearing and pulls out the notebook that she keeps tucked under every piece of clothing that she wears. It's a gift from Mullen when they first went into the victor's lounge, and somethign that she's treasured ever since. "Life has just gone to shit," she mourns. Mullen's the bright part in her life, and he's just-wow.

But there is that thing about Streak. Just where is he? She asks herself. She continues to think about this as she hears a rapping on the door. "Sorry, Sorry," the woman opening the door apologized. "Mullen's in an armwrestling match with Sullivan so he sent me to chekc on you. I'm Acacia Quills, I don't think we've met the days after your victory."

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Quills," she says quietly.

"It's normal to be cautious in the months after your victory. You seem to be taking it well though. Barbara, I noticed you looking behind you a lot after the speech, at the stage. Might I ask, who were you looking for?"

"Streak, umm, Streak Virous, District 7's first boy? He wasn't here. Mullen said he had something of a hindrance in his mind when we went to the lounge. Is he okay?"

The first girl to ever win places her hands on Barbara's shoulders, she sighs deeply and squezes them slightly. "You know I lost my daughter in the games the year Mullen came home. My son is still alive, he's got a child on the way, and I just don't want to see her die. This year, about a month ago, Streak disappeared. The peacekeepers have put the District on lockdown. He's the first one gone, and my closest friend. I can't…"

"I understand. I'm sorry that you've been going through this," she stutters out. "Do you want to get some fresh air, or-"

"Yeah, yeah, the victor's park is where the bonfire is. If we're lucky the fire's started an music's playing. I'll talk to you on the way. I know you're eager to see Mullen."

They wait about a minute more in sustained silence before walking out of the justice building and to the peacekeeper guard assigned from them. Barbara looks at the evergreen trees around her, coated in a thick blanket of white snow, where the occasional resilient squirrel hops between them, ignoring the rules of hibernation and getting acorns from beneath the blanket. It's a stunning sight when they walk across a small wood bridge over a tiny stream into the park, perched on the top of a hill and surrounded by a circle of ponderosa pines adorned with dancing lights. It's a homely place, and the three victors of District 7 are immortalized in bronze structures, each wielding the mighty axe.

Sure enough, Mullen and Sullivan are bonding over arm wrestling on a pine table off to the side of the food. "I'm not sure if I like Mullen holding a guys' hand," Barbara mumbles.

"You haven't met Gerry and Leo. Holding hands is tame compared to them. 40 years old and still strong… Come on, the marshmallows are tasty," Acacia offers.

The victory bonfire is actually a quiet affair, aside from the two capitolitan camera crews in the vicinity. Barbara meets Acacia's son, a haughty man named Steven who laughs just like a horn, and gets to greet his wife, a petite woman named Vannah who has a swolen belly big enough for ten appetites. Sullivan has his own armada of nieces and nephews, and an eager girlfriend named Muriel who has a grand ring on her finger. She and Muriel manage to click like gears, and they spend the rest of the bonfire eating s'mores and talking about reigning in two lovely men.

"Attention guests, this area is a crime scene," the peacekeeper barks through a megaphone. It's about two hours through the bonfire, where Sullivan and Mullen are stuck in a drinking contest, bickering over who beat who the most. One of the capitol representatives argues with the peacekeeper guards, but Acacia begins herding the partygoers out of the park so that they may do their jobs.

Mullen and Sullivan take Barbara by the hands and guide her out of the park in between the statues of Streak and Sullivan for minimal altercation. They wait at the main entrance of Victor's park as the peacekeepers continue arguing with the Capitol camera representatives over ruining such a photogenic opportunity. The captain hands Acacia a piece of paper with a sentence of shaky handwriting on it, ans she reads it to herself before looking up with bug eyes. "This isn't him. He never goes to Victor's park, he can't look at himself, this isn't logical."

"Ma'am, unless we can verify your claim with external proof," the captain interrupts. "We must continue to investigate this very location, and find discernable amounts of-"

"Sir," a woman speaks up. "I'm Dr. Apple Quills, the local doctor of the District, and I can assure you that Mr. Virous has been at my establishment every year around this time."

"Dr. Quills, sister to Acacia? I'm sorry ma'am I haven't recognized you without your smock. We will send several men to your establishment and verify your claims. Please come with us."

The horde of peacekeepers marches Dr. Quills out of the vicinity to Victor's park methodically. Acacia turns to Sullivan in fear, still clutching the paper. "The mutts, he's been saying stuff about the mutts. He's tried to escape in the months before last, I think he may have succeeded. But the mutts, I saw his room the weeks after, and that's all that was on his wall. _Mutts,_ " she tells Sullivan in a panic.

"They couldn't have taken him, they're in the Capitol. He's-"

"Ruined," the head peacekeeper says darkly. "We have authorization of the clearance. Ms. Gentrix, I believe you have bonfire to get to. I apologize for ruining your time."  
They spend an hour more in the District in a jovial state before Hampton pulls the two District 5 victors to the train hurriedly. Barbara leans tiredly on Mullen's arm and he carries her to her room. "I'm worried for Streak," Mullen admits.

"He would have been a nice guy, I think," Barbara agrees.

"I hope they find him," he laments. Barbara pulls him to bed that night, he doesn't pull away, he'll need her to quell the nightmares that come of the 17th arena, and as before, its reassuring to have someone he loves in his arms.

The victory tour goes by without much more of a hitch, Barbara fills in blurbs for Districts 6, 4, 3, 2, and 1 as she drops by each District, each getting increasingly more sparse. It isn't until they reach the Capitol a flickering news report on a reputable news site reveals that Streak's body was found in the outwoods of District 7, months after his disappearance. The Capitol could hardly care, they've been itching for another District 5 victor, and the timid and cautious Barbara is quite the beauty.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
Hard Chapter to put it lightly. I wanted to split time between Barbara's tour and Streak's death, and I hope the format I have here works.  
So tell me about Barbara, if her romance with Mullen is a good or bad thing, if she comes off as nice enough (hard chapter so I'm not sure about her), and just general thoughts.  
Up next-the forties. Two canon victors, the careers are significantly less powerful this decade (3 careers, definitely), and two more Districts get their second victor.  
Hopping out  
Hopps  
P.S. Sorry for the sporadic updates, my high school is getting the best of me, and I'm also trying to juggle that stress… sorry**


	40. Crate Broughtis

**_Victor #40:_**

 ** _Name: Crate Broughtis_**

 ** _District: 10_**

 ** _Age During Games: 16_**

 ** _Games: 040_**

 ** _Death: Hunger Games 114, Wendell_**

The sun kisses the earth in the early morning, glinting off of the watering troughs of the animal pens and hitting the occupants of District 10 with a gentle flourish of sunlight. The shadows shrink as the sun rises behind victor's village until the sun is almost at a 60 degree angle, hitting the forest green door of the houses facing the east. Most of the houses are empty, the dozen tall buildings are the most prominent features in the gated community, the exceptions being the free roaming pet chickens and animals openly moving.

The door to one of the two occupied houses opens up, a broad-shouldered man steps out and holds the door open for his sister, still a child by all means, only 18 years old. Granted, he's 19 himself, yet is considerably more lively than his younger sister. It shows in their identically colored wheat brown eyes. She has taken the role of mentoring the girls since winning, and as of now, none have come back. Trusty, her mentor during her hunger games, has resigned herself to taking care of the boys. "Brettly, the sun hurts, can't I stay inside?" the girl cautiously asks.

"It's been years since you've been in the blinding desert. I'm sure you're going to be fine," he replies almost carelessly.

"Can you promise that?" she asks back.

"Crate, they're gone. You're going to be fine, I promise you, there's no one else out to get you," Brettly reassures.

She takes a shaky step into the sun, the next step into their near constant routine. They've been doing this for two years now, occasionally her parents try to come over and help her out of the house, but she feels more comfortable in her brother's arms. She's the closest to him, they're only three months apart in age. District 10 is one of the few districts where the residents can have cars, in this case identical dust covered trucks, and Brettly holds the door open for her, and helps her inside.

"How long has that been here?" she asks when they pass by the Capitol donated school, two stories tall and colored in a beautiful but fading light green.

"Ever since you won my sister," he says sweetly. "You're a district hero."

She ponders on these thoughts as they pass by the factory district, Trusty's old part of town, where she came from. Hordes of animals are guided into them quickly by men tanned from the high sun and she can hear the animals calling as they pass by. The factory district is claustrophobic to her, a far cry from her family's diverse ranch, miles from victor's village. They reach the mercantile part of town about a mile away from the factories and slaughterhouses and Crate can tolerate it a little bit more. At least the animals are already dead before they're made into leather goods, woolen goods, etc.

They pull up to their family's ranch at about nine o'clock, and from the looks of it, her younger siblings have just finished herding in the sheep to their sheep-shearing barn. "Can you, park here?" she asks her brother when they reach the gate. "I want to walk this time, and feel the grass underneath my feet, it's been a week since I've walked on the grass."

Brettly nods and opens the door for her and she shakily steps onto the rough dirt of her family's ranch. She goes barefoot all of the time, her arena two years ago had no shoes whatsoever. It was also cloaked in a perpetual state of fog, making visibility hindered. She takes several steps more, ignoring the premonitions of the fog coming after her, and eventually they make it to the front door of their house. "Open the door Mackie," she can hear her father tell one of her younger sisters.

"Crate!" Mackie exclaims eagerly. "We missed you!"

"I missed you too," Crate tells her. A set of thuds against the hard wood floors of their newly renovated house lets her know that their old sheep dog, Ruffin, is on the way. "I missed you too Ruffin," she says as she holds her.

"Are you going to stay the night over? If not can I spend the night at your house? I mean, it's so cool, Trusty's an amazing neighbor and I love the sheep that the victor's ranch has so it-"

"Hello Crate," her father says tiredly. "Breakfast is on the table, if you want to join us for the meal. Your favorite, Jelly filled toast, is at your seat."

She smiles at him, and he cautiously returns it. Even if she is scared of mostly everything since her arena, animals included, her family is not one of them. And they're a nice clan. Her father is a widower, having lost his wife to smallpox several years before Crate's victory. Brettly is the oldest, 19 years old and towering over his father. Then Crate herself, then Leilani who is 2 years younger than she is, followed by 15 year old Jack, a spitting image of Brettly, then Trellis, her youngest brother, and little Mackie is the youngest at 10 years old. Her mother died when Mackie was 5 years old, and they needed much more tesserae to keep up both the ranch and their life. Small wonder that one of them was reaped, but with her victory, they lived a life of relative luxury.

She's home again, and they all aimlessly talk to each other about commonalities about the District. Crate holds the knife warily in her hands before using it to coat the her bread excessively. She smiles weakly as the front door opens, and their usual field hands wander in with gentle smiles. It's still hard to look at them directly in the eyes, but she's been opening up for them and they have for her.

Crate can still see Dalton's face in his brother's eyes. "Hi Crate," Dayton says calmly. "Don't worry, I've stopped being pissed at you for years, and it's very much fine. Forgive and forget, District 10 custom, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," she replies. Dalton was her District partner for Hunger Games 40, and everyone wanted him to make it back for them. He had a girl, was a wondrous student, easy to talk to, or maybe that's the nostalgia coming back, but his death at the cornucopia at the hands of District 6 was divisive. She wasn't exactly the most popular back home, but she was definitely the favorite to win after the five death bloodbath. "How's your girlfriend?"

"Still in love with her, planning to pop the question very soon. I'm going to check over the sheep, and purchase some sheared wool from you guys, as always. Going to send it over to Lami down at the tailors, going to get her something as I pop the question," he replies curtly.

They talk for a little bit, dancing around any words that might give her nightmares of the muttation populated hunger games. He leaves after fifteen more minutes, and it's nice to talk to her partner's twin once in a while. Her father calls the crew around, the half-dozen field hands finishing their meals at about the same time her siblings do. "Crate, thank you for coming today, we're going to be moving the class 6 sheep into the trucks and have them at the doctors for three days, so we'll have you, Dayton, Muniz, and Mackie herding them into the trucks for the while. I'll give the rest of them their orders."

"Alright," Dayton agrees. He tosses Crate a pair of leather boots, well worn since she was 16 years old and fixing the fences to their ranch.

"You forgive me, right?" she asks Muniz hastily. His younger sister, Tissen, was reaped at the tender age of 12 for Crate's first year of mentoring. She made it to day 2, longer than what was expected, but she fell to District 2 that year.

"It's fine. Just let it go. The boy who killed her didn't wind up winning, so I guess karma kicked him terribly. I don't hold grudges, even if I'm only 17 this year," he says calmly.

"Thank you," she whispers back, almost to tears. They make their way to the sheep pens, and Mackie runs out to hold the gate open as Muniz taunts the sheep a substantial distance away. She jumps out of the way of the first charging sheep as they run out and accidentally knocks her and Muniz to the ground.

"Sorry about that," Crate says uneasily.

"Don't worry," he says with a chuckle. "Glad to see you moving today. I guess it's something about the ranch that gets you up like this."

"I suppose it is," she replies quietly.

A year later they expand the ranch again, now officially in a partnership with the main victor's ranch, where they delegate the goods evenly. Crate is a courteous and sweet victor, so her siblings are safe for the years of their reapings. She marries Muniz after two years in a relationship and have three children. Life returns to a slow crawl, only interrupted by the two rather close District 10 victories in the 50's and 60's. A quell shakes it up, probably because of that 12 girl's actions.

She stands on stage as an old woman, looking fearfully at her large family below her. The first named called comes from the woman's bowls, with about a dozen girls available. "Mackenzie 'Mackie' Broughtis," the ugly capitol escort calls. She pales in fear, her sister, now in her 50's takes the stage with as much dignity being an old woman would let her. "Geryon Hook," the escort trills as the wind ruffles her dress. The youngest of the Hook boys takes the stage, 18 years old and strongly built.

She hasn't brought a victor in all of her years of mentoring, and the odds of her or Adam bringing a victor is nil. Their trip to the capitol is only apologizing. They last long in the horrendous clock, but at least the old Broughtis sister dies in the gentlest way the arena can let her, and Geryon lasts long with the out District alliance, until he tries to kill the man from 12. District 10 mourns again, they way they do after almost every Hunger Games.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here  
Again, sorry for the lack of an update for about a week. Like I've said, school's kicking my ass, and...yeah. And District 10 finally gets victor #2! Thoughts about her? The format? Just let me know in the comment. Up next, one more canon victor.  
Hopping out,  
Hopps**


	41. Vander 'Blight' Kurkis

_**Victor #41:**_

 _ **Name: Vander 'Blight' Kurkis**_

 _ **District: 07**_

 _ **Age During Games: 15**_

 _ **Games: 041**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 115, Sheer**_

"It's not going to be long until we're down to the final 3 and 2," Miriam tells me grimly.

We've just heard a cannon sound from our camp of the remnants of the old bumper car exhibit. "They're going to start drawing us in soon," I say.

"Maybe the capitol is stagnated with that death today. I just really hope that it's one of the careers," she replies. From the sun's position in the sky, it's about 2 in the afternoon, or at the very least early morning. "We should get going then, we're low on water. Thank goodness for the maps. We should be going to the exhibit on what'cha ma' call it? The one with the loop? And the spirals?"

"Silver Bullet, it's the roller coaster that's orange and with the cobra roll" the name rolls off of my tongue quickly. We've been going there for the past couple of days to get more for our constantly depleting water supply. There's a tiny lake nearby, and it's perpetually refilled with water almost every time we've been there, and there are several food stands where we can obtain certain foodstuffs. "Do we have to though? I mean the boardwalk is so much closer."

Miriam nods her head no. "If you keep insisting that, Blight…" she grumbles.

"I thought that after ten days here you would start calling me Vander again."

"Old habits die hard, Blight. And what does it matter?"

"You still didn't answer my first question," I interject.

"Don't you remember that it's polluted?! That District 3 girl, oh god, her corpse…" she shivers at the thought of her only kill in the arena so far. I've been mainly doing the kills if it had to come to it, three boys and one girl so far… sometimes they ride the rollercoasters at night. But by her description of the 3 girl's murder eight days ago, 'bloated, water seeping into every gash, expanding her body before sinking to the bottom, and being thrashed by artificial currents before electrocution,' she has it worse.

"I understand. Sorry, lapse of judgement, you know it happens to me," I reply.

She grimaces at me briefly before relaxing. "It's the arena, and I shouldn't be talking. Come on, one kill to your four-"

"Please don't," I interrupt. She shuts up and munches on an apple slice. Some weird things have been happening in the District lately, and honestly, I'm sure that if one of us makes it home, then we wouldn't be out of place in the hectic life of District 7. We lost one of our victors, Streak, to some fungal disease years ago, and Acacia and Sullivan-our other 2 victors, are kind of in a funk. Hopefully if we make it home then we can help heal the District by healing their most prominent citizens.

Miriam and I spend the rest of our afternoon in a silence, moving to the side every half an hour or so, because the remaining bumper cars in the arena spring back to life and roam around the section of the bumper car attraction. From what the two of us have seen, periodically some attractions will turn on and move erratically on their tracks, I guess it might be why Miriam's still affected by the District 3 girls death. The anthem appears in the sky after about 10 more cycles, and the sky is lit with the face of the boy from District 5. "Damn, both careers are still alive," Miriam mumbles.

"We should get hunting, we've had a long time to heal. 50-50 chance that they find us, or we find them," I decide.

"Can't it wait until morning? I still feel a bit spotty in my arms." She's talking about a previous scuffle with the boy from District 11 three days, fourteen years old but able to pack a punch. The only thing separating us from death was my skill with an axe, but not after he stabbed Miriam twice in her upper right arm.

"Yeah sure," I resign. I curl up against a support pole in the middle of an island in the bumper car section. She joins me shortly after, and it feels like my sister and I are just in our shared bed, watching the night sky travel through a hole in the roof. Eventually, I fall asleep.

 _It's a rainy day in District 7, I run through the rows and rows of growing sapling trees to hide from the alpha bitch of my school, recruiting her stupid oaf of a boyfriend, or boy toy as she has it -boy toy of the week. They're merciless. I curl under a decently sized one, close to my house in the pine covered neighborhood, and wait for my tormentors to pass. "I can't believe he like Britany," the girl gossips. "Then he tried to go for me, can you even believe it?'_

" _Totally can't honey pie," he stupidly replies. I can hear them fuck even in the rain, and their moans of pleasure stain my cheeks with my tears. I've always been a sensitive boy, a perfect target for girls like her and guys like him._

 _Miriam finds me after thirty minutes and the stupid bullies leave. "Again Vander?"_

" _I'm sensitive," I feebly reply._

" _Come on, the rest of us are waiting for you at home. Mom's actually managed to make bread for us out of our grain, and I know you like the way she makes it."_

" _Can we just stay here, think and talk for a while?"_

 _She nods and takes a seat next to me. We wait for the rain to pass by over us, and when they do, the forest lights with fireflies and the rocks slowly glisten in the moonlight. "Blight actually makes you sound tough. There isn't anything wrong with that," she says._

" _Maybe if you called me that then it wouldn't hurt as much. But can we keep it between us?"_

" _Anything you want, my little Blight bro. "_

I don't know why I decide to dream of that tonight, but maybe it's the comfort I've felt with my sister for all those years. I let her call me Blight ever since I was 13, and it somehow feels better when it comes out of her mouth. "Miriam," I gently prod her sleeping face. "We need to go. The cars are going to start moving again."

She wakes up slowly, rubbing her eyes just as the cars begin moving. "Looks like we have to wait for quite a while. They're only up for 3 minutes, right?"

"Right. I haven't heard a cannon, so I assume the careers didn't die yet." A parachute falls through an open gap of the corrugated roof, delivering us two strips of beef jerky. It's a miracle that Sullivan and Acacia still have enough to send us the same meal this late into the hunger games. I gnaw it down quickly, and Miriam only chooses to take half a bite out of one of them. "Ready to go?" I ask when the cars finally die down.

"Ready," she replies. We step cautiously on the metal tarmac that the cars ride on, as to not trip theem into sensing movement. "Should we still be off to Silver Bullet? I don't see it in the skyline anymore."

"Ghostrider then, as good a place as any." I unfold the map tat I keep in my jeans pocket and point to the massive wooden coaster at the far end of the park. No sooner do we move five feet from the tarmac, the bumper car area collapses and releases the cars. "RUN!" I tell her.

They chase us past this old water ride known as the Bigfoot rapids, which floods from its banks and takes the cars away in a roaring wall of water. We're splashed only slightly, but the water has flooded our route behind us. "No turning back," Miriam says, holding her knife anxiously.

We move through the park as the rides come to life, endangering the both of us as we traipse nervously past the old stores, refilled with weapons. I stock up on three axes, about three feet long each and refined with polished silver heads. "Come on," I tell Miriam as we pass the weaponry store.

The two of us wait at the lift station, we don't bother to make camp because we know that the end is near, and it'll only be a matter of time before the careers join us. "Blight, I'm scared," Miriam confesses.

"I am too," I reply. It's the only conversation we have during the day. We haven't been talking as much as I'd like to, but thinking about it, there isn't much that we can get through. There is a one in four chance of one of us making it back. Only _one in four._ I'm the youngest one in the arena right now, and Miriam's actually the oldest. Both of our career opponents are 16 years old, the boy from District 2 is definitely our biggest opposition, but his lackey, the girl from district 4 is deadly in her own right.

The anthem comes and goes without much fanfare. I join Miriam as she sleeps on one of the wooden horizontal support beams about ten feet up from the ground. Occasionally there's a rumble from the roller coaster train cars, and it vibrates our makeshift bed every hour or so through the night. I'm sure it's not intentional, but I can't help but feel very very pissed when a swarm of fireflies hover a foot above us and outline the number 7-no it definitely is intentional.

 _The day after I cry under the rows of growing saplings, it rains again. I find my older sister on the branch of a strong tree, lying down aimlessly and staring up. I use a nearby Douglas Fir to climb up to her level and jump across the branches to join her. "Boy problems?" I ask._

" _All too unfortunate," she replies. "Vernon and I are just not working out, but he's so far in love with me. I don't know how to break it off with him."_

 _She brings her fingers up to the bridge of her nose and pinches it to repress the tears. "He loves you, doesn't he?" I ask after several minutes of just letting her think. She nods, and I continue. "Miriam, if he loves you then he should know that he isn't right for you."_

" _I suppose so, but he's the nicest guy in school and I just don't want to break him off like that."_

" _Just talk with him after a long walk through the District, calmly explain it to him, and then break it off. If you think that my advice isn't good, ask Kimberly. She's two years older than us, and she's bound to know something. And siblings are supposed to look out for each other."_

The rumbling is louder than usual when we wake up in the morning. Miriam and I jump down from our position on the tall piece of grey wood and shakily get to our feet. I look to Miriam in reassurance, and her quick nod is all I see of her before the spear cuts her through the neck. "MIRIAM!" I shout.

Twenty feet below us are the careers, chuckling lightly at my reaction to my sister dying. Foolishly I throw one of my axes at them, which they dodge effortlessly. I roar in grief and throw one of my other axes to the wood floor at the bottom. It splinters in two, and the rumbling of the trains behind us mean that the coaster is starting up. "Blight...Vander…" she coughs.

"No, no, please don't talk. Save your breath. Please."

I can hear the footsteps coming up behind us and she closes her eyes for the last time. Her cannon fires and causes the structure to rumble. The rafters above us are angled precariously and breaking apart. This structure is going to collapse with all three of us here. "Look who we've found Antony, our final opposition," the girl says cockily.

She clutches her stomach and back in agony and tries to grab at the knives sticking at her stomach and back. Antony follows up with a stab to the throat and she falls to the wood in agony. "I think you mean my opposition Waverly," he taunts. Her cannon fires moments later, and he kicks at her body. "Just you and me, huh?'

I don't reply as his smile grows into a smirk. "What is it Vander? Lose your voice box after your sister?" I tighten my grip on my remaining axe as he begins to grab the sword hanging off of his belt. "Could have used you in the career alliance come to think of it, District 1 was a dud year. Dead because of Districts 8 and 10. Unbelievable. Waverly and I really were the only opposition, and your little alliance seems to have brought more control than we thought."

I twitch in anticipation as I charge towards him, swinging my axe in the air. He blocks it with his sword and punches me in the side. Even if he is only a year older than I, he's noticeably much stronger and tougher. I tone out all of his taunts as I swing again and again, only to be blocked every time by his stupid sword. I can feel the structure crumble below me with every hit. He knocks the axe over his head and throws me up. I regain control somehow, and flip behind his back. He moves his head in confusion, and I seize the opportunity to push him against the splintered wood. He falls face first onto the splintered boards, and he groans in pain. "Don't call me Vander. The name's Blight motherfucker," I tell him before I swing my axe against his back. He splits in two, and his cannon sounds even as I throw my axe against the back of his head. Slowly, I fall to the floor, and cry. I've survived the Hunger Games, but not with Miriam, against all odds. The trumpets sound, and Vander Kurkis is named the victor. He died with his sister, Blight survived.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **I kind of struggled with Blight, but I think I have an acceptable take on him. I tried my damndest to deviate from Oisinn's rendition of him, and I think I did a good job. (By the way, check out The Lumberjack and the Tree Elf, one of Oisin55's fanfictions, and it centers around Blight and his Hunger Games. Phenomenal read, highly recommend it)**

 **But I'm not the judge, you guys are. So tell me what you think of him, and any other stand outs in this chapter.  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	42. Tscharner Sover

_**Victor #42:**_

 _ **Name: Tscharner Sover**_

 _ **District: 11**_

 _ **Age During Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 042**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 121, Phineas**_

The Hunger Games were crazy, like they always were. Both too short, and too long, eventually the feisty District 11 girl of 17 years of age finally arose over the corpses of 23 other children. She's unconscious when she's pulled out, all that emotional stress culminated in a final feast in that crazy barn, and well, she's plain tired and injured. Her mentor, six months along Seeder Firest waits at her hospital bed, relaying random snippets of their conversations as the girl heals.

 **I understand that life isn't the best in District 11, but the mood of the district is better, thanks to you.**

Tscharner Sover, born the year of the first Quarter Quell, always knew where to find food. She was the middle child of seven children, three girls, four boys. She lost another brother after a misunderstanding with the peacekeepers, when he tried to reason with them. The other officials call it an intentional assault, an attempt at pulling a gun obtained prematurely. At best the witnesses claim that he was idly swinging his hands, at worst he was stretching.

He died at 18, his last reaping year, almost old enough to start a family in District 11, probably with a girl. Her older sister, Filomena, is the one who knows the most of their region inside and out. There are three bio-domes spaced three miles apart, the one furthest north throws out the best scraps, the one closest to the District center has a good amount of traders and a fari amount of tolerant peacekeepers, but don't go to the one farthest east.

She makes the mistake one day, and she gets whipped as a result of distracting the workers who work to separate the larger mangoes from the malnourished ones. It's a hard knock life in the District, and victory won't change that one bit. Though after every victory, and her victory isn't any exception, there is a drop in crime.

Too bad the best things don't last for long.

 **Most victors, even if they were trained, still had to beat the odds.**

It's like a normal day in District 11 when the capitol sets up their horrible reaping stage. The thousand eligible citizens, each determined by luck of smaller draws throughout the various District villages are crammed into 14 pens. A hand that stems from a stupid witch named Meganra, falls into the reaping balls, overflowing with thousands of slips. The first name called rings through the dilapidated town square.

The two mentors sit up as they see one of their tributes walk up the stage with an air of confidence. She just emanates it, though it may be that she's just in such contrast to the other tributes to walk up the stage in the 42 years. The boy who joins her is her height, same build, same skin tone-they could be siblings if it weren't for the fact that he has a different last name, and the odd shock of blond hair.

It's an unusual sight when the two tributes walk in from the goodbye room without any tears on their face, once again a stark contrast. It's an odd year this year, most of the tributes are on the older side, and the odds are good for all of them. Tscharner and Milton, they have higher odds than District 4, 10-1 and 13-1. Still, the tributes from District 2 lead the pack with 3-1 and 2-1 odds.

 **As naive as they can be, all the stylists want to do is help you make an impact**

She looks at herself in the mirror, her pair of overalls have been made to push up her pair of breasts, but other than that it's pretty modest. Still, she's one of the more plain looking tributes. Her partner's hair has been accentuated with a yellow pair of coveralls. They're average for the night, but definitely not one of the more handsome or beautiful tributes. The big screen in front of the tribute center flickers and rotates to show that the odds have changed again. Tscharner's now at 15-1, a small drop, but now the District 4 tributes, the girl from District 10, and the boy from District 12 are above her and Milton. Time would tell if they hold up.

 **Remain firm, alliances can only lead to trouble**

It's a surprise when the career pack approaches her the next day during training. She finishes using a pitchfork to disarm one of the capitol trainers and holds it at her throat. The leader of the pack, the boy from District 4, explains that District 2 was an odd dud of a year this year, and rejected him, his partner, and the tributes from District 1. He's a charmer, truly, and not that bad looking, but Tscharner still rejects Finlan-the boy from four-and his offer and tries to use the swords. At the very least, he's respectful about it, and they move on to the boy from District 12.

 **Training scores really aren't set in stone, you know**

The tributes from District 1, Worth and Blush earn a pair of double 10's. The defectors from District 2 each earn 8's under the watchful eyes of the gamemakers. District 3 gets a four and a 6, average. Finlan and his partner each earn a 9, but she knows that Finlan is definitely stronger than that. The rest of the Districts go by, and she tunes the sound of the television out. She chimes back in just as the ranching girl from District 10 is able to make it with an 8. Milton's face lights up in excitement just as a number 7 appears next to his name. She mirrors his expression when she earns an 8. It's not the highest, but definitely one of, and well, she's happy with that.

 **Anything can happen during the bloodbath**

Her interviews fly by in a blur, but overall it seems like a dud. And from the looks of it, everyone else has been having a dud too. All odds are now greater than 10 in one for all tributes, with the worst being a boy from District 8 with a shrunken arm at 9000-1. Her stylist puts her in a pair of overalls. She looks at her like it's a joke, but she shakes her head and hands her a pair of boots.

The two dozen of them soon are thrown into a clearing in the forest, surrounded on all sides by tall fir and maple trees, but far off in the distance there are several houses. More tributes this year run into the forest, but a select few decide to make the run. She's one of them, and grabs a hatchet and pitch fork before darting across the battlefield into the forest. She runs into the girl from District 1, Blush as they dart into the forest.

"Career alliance broke mid-bloodbath, going to hell today, but I'm still going to fight," she explains. She ends up with two pitchfork prongs in her throat before her death, but Tscharner isn't much better off. She sits on a log far off from her first battle when 12-yes 12 cannons blow off in the beginning of the evening. Not long afterwards the dozen faces stream the night sky, starting with District 1's Blush Eridan. The boy from District 2 follows, then the two tributes from District 3. Both of District 4 is still alive, but Districts 5 and 7 are both gone. A girl, she can't remember if she's from District 8 or 9, appears next, then the boy from District 10. She fills with dread because there are only two faces left to show, and three tributes are left unnacounted for. Ultimately both from District 12 perish in the night sky, and the arena goes dark once more.

 **Unless push comes to shove, don't kill your partner**

It's day 5 in the arena, and the supplies she had in her pack are finally beginning to dwindle. The forest is aplenty with food, but too many tributes have found each other, often times leaving in a hastily made stalemate. But three others die in the span of these five days, the girls from District 6 and 10 and the boy 8. The gamemakers introduce mutts, as if to speed up an already fast paced games. She recovers from one of them by climbing up a tree and cradling her leg in her arms. There's a quick shake, and one of the mutts is climbing up the tree. She screams and throws her hatchet. It hits the mutt in the chest, and only a moment too late does she realize that it's Milton. "I thought…" he stutters before falling to the ground in a mess.

She'll be a divisive figure if she makes it out of the arena, and no amount of victory celebrations can make light of it.

 **Everyone has to make it out with at least a couple of kills, no one hasn't killed in the arena**

It's a tough sight as Milton's face streams across the sky, he placed ninth overall. It seems like an average dark horse Hunger Games considering that she hasn't seen Finlan or the four other careers. Tscharner sleeps uneasily in her tree, she hasn't moved since she killed Milton, and to her, it seems unlikely that she will again. Then the earthquakes begin two days later, and she has to jump from tree to tree to escape the moving fissure.

She's pantng for breath when another fissure cuts diagonally across from her, a masculine is heard as she wanders over to the site. Flowing blond hair, the only one who could have it in this arena is the girl from District 4, Mariana, and she screams as the earth continues to shake beneath the lip that she rests on. Tscharner finds her, only to grab a rock and slam her fingers until she falls into the ocean. "YOU BITCH!" Mariana screams before she falls into the ground. It quickly closes, and there's a garish crush before the cannon fire.

Mariana swims across the sky with the boy from District 9. By her count, the ones left are the girl from District 2, Finlan, the boy from District 6, the girl from District 9, Worth, and her. Top six, and she looks around her surroundings. A massive barn looms in the background, a crimson contrast that almost blends against the backdrop of the woods. She weaves through the fields of corn and wheat stealthily before finding a hole to crawl into the barn.

 **Feasts are the second bloodbath, avoid them like the plague, but well, like the bloodbath, quick deaths are nice**

Luckily for her, a feast is called in the very barn, mandatory attendance, an odd choice for the Hunger Games, but it's been years without a feast, and the Capitol just wants another one so fucking badly. Tscharner scampers out of the way when a supply box of weapons falls from the ceiling and scatters on the floor, followed by massive crates of food and water falling from the same hole. It's a big mess, and the only other thing to compound it is the addition of a rat king mutt.

She screams in horror as it scatters from pile of cheese to pile of cheese, destroying almost everything in the way. But it ignores her, and she skirts the edges and tries to escape-only to find that the barn has been closed off. As if on cue, the five other tributes roam into the barn hastily, chased by what seems to be a fissure that splits the walls in the barn. They look at each other, look at the terrible rat mutt, and scramble.

Tscharner grabs a pitchfork standing upright and throws it across the room. It hits the rat king, and they scamper to the side of the room. She weaves in and out of the scrambling tributes, the shaking walls, the frantic mess, and runs into Finlan. THey roll for quite a bit, and they're bloodied up. In a moment of strength, she throws him in front of the rat king, and he's chewed to bits. The blood falls down her back as worth stabs her in the stomach. She survives, but why would she?

She keeps running around the discarded weapons just to avoid the rat mutt. It's a devastating killer, and she only has to make one more kill before she blacks out. It's the boy from District 6, Harvey, and he tells her the same words Finlan screamed. "FUCK YOU!"

 **I'm sorry, but there's going to have to be sacrifices to be made in the Hunger Games**

Tscharner wakes up three days after she's pulled out of the arena. Per underdog District custom, her mentor is the first to see her up. She collapses in the older woman's arms and cries, skirting the swolen belly as she tightens her grip. Their interview is decent, a rather long Hunger Games with a series of short and sweet battles, but her trip home is divisive.

They call her a cheat, dumb bitch, coward, every foul profanity to come from District 11 is hurled at her. At the same time, she's a hero, savior, martyr, practically a god. She holds her youngest sister in trauma, and they weep together. Her victory tour is an odd one, she can't handle District 10 because of the prevalence of barns, she can't handle District 6 because of the mess, District 7 because of the trees, but strangely, a guiding hand in District 4 holds her as she recounts killing both their tributes. Mags is always a nice woman, and every victor had to stuff to get out. District 4 doesn't hold it against them. She makes good friends with a girl who comes out of the arena several years after her, unstable.

She names her child after her after her premature death on the ocean.

 **Family can only do so much to help.**

It's the 75th reaping, the third quarter quell. She knows that they're trying to cripple District 12, it's obvious that they want to get rid of Prim, the catalyst for all the rebellion. Volunteering is strictly out of the water as an option.

Still, she holds her tongue as one of her younger brothers volunteers for his son. He's 39, pretty old by District standards, but he stands on stage like a tribute much younger. He falls to the monkey mutts, and in that moment, Tscharner sees her brother, six years old when she went in the arena, the bubbly ball of energy in her life, who settles down for a girl and only has two children-her brother, Melvin, die in a horrible shade of orange.

It's a record Quarter Quell that year, most volunteers, most bets ever placed, and the oldest victor. But it doesn't matter. The arena claims 23 lives again.

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I'm sorry if this isn't up to snuff, but I'm on writer's block because of School and Physics and AP Human Geography plus all this drama and-well, I hope it didn't show in the writing.**

 **District 11's third Victor is not Chaff, but Tscharner. Surprised? Well, I hope she and her games were exciting enough for you all, and be sure to check out Quarter Quell Choices, I'm about to begin the bloodbath**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **P.S. Which victors do you think will have their relatives in the games?**


	43. Desire Veritas

_**Victor #43:**_

 _ **Name: Desire Veritas**_

 _ **District: 01**_

 _ **Age During Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 043**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 113, Katrina**_

The sun gleams off of the arena for the first nine Hunger Games, scattering rays of light around the revamped arena. The victor of Hunger Games 43 sat at the top of the arena in a covered section reserved for her and her kin. Leopold, her mentor for that year, just left with old Gerrian out of the arena. He was one of the first victors, and he and his boyfriend both knew that loss stemmed from there more so than anywhere else. She sat in the covered shade, drinking a shrimp cocktail aimlessly as she watched the recreation of Dodger's death during Hunger Games 3, killed by that year's victor-Leif Vanas of District 1.

"You seem tired," a voice calls out in the alcove.

She turns around, shocked at the sudden prescence of another person. "I don't think we've met," Desire says warily. She's a small woman, only about five feet five and rather skinny for her age. Judging by the wrinkles and bags surrounding her eyes, the woman is old, decades older than her. "I assume you're a victor?"

The woman nods. "I'm only a decade older than you. Enjoy looking pretty while it lasts," she harshly chuckles. "But really? We haven't met in the victor's lounge?"

Desire nods. "I was told that since the mentors rotate yearly, some victors are there when others aren't. Leopold was mentoring, so Gerrian was there, and I think he said something about Jonas and Pharlax coming down with illness."

"What can I say, in District 9, life isn't a crystal chandelier. Pharlax Troughis, District 9, Hunger Games 33."

"Desire Veritas, District 1, Hunger Games 43. I've been meaning to ask Leo, but how old exactly are our mentors? Leopold basically set the credence for volunteering in District 1, and Gerrian has seen many victories," she asks out of curiosity. It's an odd question, but she kind of is befuddled as to how long they've stayed together.

"Both in their fifties," Pharlax replies, grabbing a canned drink from a refridgerator unit. They sipped their drinks aimlessly and peered down at the wandering Capitol tour groups, taking hideous pictures next to the replications of the first 7 victors. "You know that the Hunger Games tears family apart, don't you?"

"I've kind of figured it out, considering all of District 1's viewings of the Quarter Quell," Desire replies, curiosity edging in her voice.

"You went with your brother to the arena. I'm sure that in District 1 even they know that only one person out of twenty four could make it out. It's why cousins are kind of cursed in the outer Districts. The boy who won a couple of years back, lost his sister. Real shame. Grudge against Mags and Andromeda. Fine with Torrent oddly enough."

The wine glass in her hands begins to tilt as the headaches come back again. Desire Veritas and her brother, Richard Veritas volunteered against their parents' wishes. They were one of relatively few family members in the District to take tesserae, and attended the District Youth Enhancement Center to give them hope for the future.

"We saw an opportunity and we jumped towards it. Richard and I had two other siblings-Elizabeth and Harold. They aren't going to have to take tesserae because we're alive," she explains. The rubber grip of the old stone seat that she uses in the arena begins to peel from its base and the sticky residue leaves in a web that snaps as the rubber grip continually moves off of the wooden base. "I'm just glad that I didn't have to kill him."

"Eleven others died at your hands. You're the second most effective killer these days, besides Lupus," Pharlax points out. She gestures to the mighty statue of the first victor, almighty Lupus Marterus on his pedestal, him in his prime-long before the occasional bouts of arthritis became much more frequent. He's still a lovable teddy bear by all means, still one of the strongest victors in their group. "And you're the first girl to hit double digits."

Desire leaves the statement hanging with a thick cloud of depression. The multi-terrain arena this year was perfect for her kills, a beautiful blend of forest caverns and water-logged alcoves. If anything, it would have been a boring year had it not been for Desire. Three kills in the bloodbath, the tributes from 5 and the girl from 10, added on with four more kills through hunting-the boys from 8,9, and 10 with the girl from 3, and surviving the collapse of the careers-taking out the tributes from 4 before fleeing when the girl from 2 took out Richard. There was one more kill she made, the girl from District 7, the day before the finale. Using the tomahawk plundered from the District 7 girl, she drove it into the 2 girl's head after a lengthy battle. She bears the scars to this day, two years since her victory, a permanent brace at her wrists and a mandated capitol surgery.

"I wanted to save my family along with my brother. We didn't always had to take out tesserae, but we made too many pink glass chandeliers and the Capitol trend just faded when I was 8. Richard was 6, and Elizabeth and Harry weren't even born yet. I did whatever it took, and now, I'm sold to the Capitol," she ruefully explains.

"We all are at times. I guess that's the plus of being one of the more forgettable victors. I only made two kills, and I didn't have to until the final 8 during my year. I cause quite the upset, and i don't think the Capitol liked me for long," her companion laments. They shift their glances to the first girl to win, their humble coworker and proud mom-Acacia Quills, gripping her axe tightly against the shifts of the wind. "My sister lost her unborn child. I had to guide her through her tears but when I held her against the hospital bed, i felt like I was back in the arena, cradling Cotton from District 8."

They pause again, sipping from their respective drinks as the breeze begins to pick up again, causing the old chain at the top of the arena to sway tumultuously against the clear blue sky. It's interrupted when a simulated tracker jacker nest falls in the northwest sector of the arena, where Legume Nitrate of District 11 first encountered them. The Capitol audience initially screams in horror before they choose to run, laughing all the way, and they end up in the stands, crowding the area behind the shaded and camoflauged victor's box.

"I don't suppose you like girls, do you?" Desire asks jokingly to her friend. She raises her eyebrow as Desire breaks out into laughter. "I'm sorry, that gets everyone every time. I mean, everyone in District 1 acknowledges that same sex pairings are real, hell, practically 90% of the population is bisexual, but-sorry, sorry," she chortles.

"If I did, I'd certainly go for you, but the grains know that only one District 9 and District 1 homosexual couple is enough. And I'm actually married, no children, but we plan to adopt," Pharlax replies calmly. "90% of the DIstrict 1 population likes both? I guess that explains Leo."

"We've only heard of him with Gerry, a guy, so I don't know if that makes him gay but he claims he likes both so, I guess he's bi. Does the same go for Gerry?"

"I mean…" they drone on for a while, gossiping about the mannerisms of the older victors. Desire's eyes widen when she learns that the biggest person in the victor's circle is Mullen..at the very least biggest down there. "Just don't tell anyone I said that. It's a secret between us all, though I can tell you the sizes of all victors if you want. I mean, I can tell you're at a double alpha, but before all that you were a triple gamma, above average by District standards but you need a little more. Of course, I'm just a gamma, been a gamma so I can't talk," Pharlax relates.

Like all victors before them, they haven't really matured at all since leaving the arena, and honestly, some straight up girl talk is what the doctor ordered. Desire gets a message from Leopold to head back to the tribute center for a quick interview. She isn't allowed to mentor yet, old Daphne and Radiance are keeping her from the mentor's table as the procedures go on. Pharlax' girl died during the bloodbath, it's apparent that she simply isn't as effective as Maury, but they accompany each other on the train ride to the Capitol, gazing at the shrinking arena behind them and looking forward at the encroaching Capitol.

A ditz of a man intercepts Desire as soon as she steps off of the train and onto the platform. A buzzing camera and makeup crew drags her away from Pharlax, applying a dab of blush here, make up just over there-she remembers the lead Ditz of a man pulling out a rose as the interview ends, and he's rough, the roughest that Desire has ever had in quite a while. It's Pharlax she returns to in tears and they eat ice cream as they watch said interviewer get grilled on the Capitol news network.

"Don't tell me…" Dior Portchis asks warily as he walks into the apartment with his frenemy, Cane Detrary.

"Relax," Desire says with a roll of her eyes. "Pharlax is a married woman and I don't like the same sex as strongly as Leopold does."

Seemingly satisfied, Dior opens the door to a hall closet to kick off his shoes, only to have to jump out of the way as Leo and Gerry roll out, still intertwined with each other. He calls Cane over to help him out and they roll the old love-bunnies back into the closet. The man from District 4 shivers at the thought and makes a break to the bathroom. "When it comes to maturity, we don't have any," Dior snarks.

The girls look at each other before breaking out into a fit of giggles. They resume their amiable conversation just as the other victors walk in, turning in for the night. Radiance is still trailed by 908, but 908's health has been failing, so it's no surprise when the avox begins coughing as soon as they walk in the room. Ever since Desire won Radiance has finally been able to take a well deserved break out of the Capitol limelight and settle in a little more in District 1, working in close quarters with the privaleged few to get outer District contact with District 3. Like most victor relations, she forms an odd one with Beetee Latiers.

"I'm going to turn in for the night," Pharlax tells the woman from District 1, who nods in response. She waves goodbye and closes the door as she makes her way into the hallway. The victor remains awake for an hour more, switching the channel to the live feed of the Hunger Games as she reads an edition of Ponicherry's Postively Promiscuous Plays. She flips open the page to a story about Cane and Dior, chuckling to herself as she remembers that ther is no way in hell that Cane would willingly fuck a guy, but there's a nice bit of plot before all the sex, and the sex really isn't that bad.

She's almost too wrapped up in it to look up at the screen. She whispers a tiny 'oh crap' when a dome to the abandoned aquarium collapses on the career alliance. From the steam coming from the water, it's pretty hot too, and the careers scream in pain as the water continues to swirl around the floundering careers. The girl from District 4 cackles above them, complimenting a fish that she dubbed Kronk with his aptness at pulling a lever. She screams when the boy from District 2 jumps out of the water, legs already covered in hideous burn marks and knocks the girl from District 1 into the water facefirst.

She makes such a clatter opening the elevator door that the other victors wake up in a hurry and trail her in the next elevator up. They find Desire fruitlessly sending burn cream to the wounded careers, but the girl from District 1 is already dead when the medicine arrives. The boy from District 4 follows, then the boy from District 2, then the boy from District 1, until only the girl from District 2 is alive, only to be killed by the wily outlier of the year-the District 10 boy. Desire screams at every screen for the next couple of days, at any glass of water. It wouldn't be her last freak out with the death of the careers.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **I feel like this chapter absolutely had no direction and jumped from place to place. Sorry if it does come off as that, but ah well.**

 **District 1 gets another victor, and a damn effective one at that. Eleven kills to her name, and a legendary career in her own right. Currently she has the second highest amount of kills, but who knows how long that will last.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **P.S. Next chapter, a victor with one of Birkaran's names. If you have a name idea, you're more than welcome to send me a PM for the tributes, I actually might need it for Haymitch's games.**


	44. Verent Ruvel

**_Victor #44:_**

 ** _Name: Verent Ruvel_**

 ** _District: 6_**

 ** _Age During Games: 18_**

 ** _Games: 044_**

 ** _Death: Niccety, Hunger Games 077_**

It's always cold in his house. It's empty too. The only other occupants, if you can call them that, are the paintings with their dead and lifeless eyes but oh so beautiful colors of blood. It's a sickening gift, from the capitol nonetheless. If you can't hold anything in your hands comfortably nor wear it, then it is not suited as a cross District gift, at least according to the stupid head gamemaker. It's a shame too, he'd love the paintings surrounding the victor's lounge.

He curls up under his piles and piles of fluffy blankets when the chills overcome him. The warmth is lovely this night, and even with the hole for his morphling drip being rather large. He falls asleep, never for more than hour before the sun creeps through his thinly made draperies. The boy's prescribed for one iv bag of morphling per every 12 hours, but the District pharmacist is an old and corrupt coot, and his mentor's preoccupied with her own children nowadays. Surely she can't worry about him too much.

Verent wakes up almost too roughly, and the light burns his eyes for the briefest of moments before finally he regains composure. "Hi Mr. Sun," he says with a stilted cough. The hand mirror on his bed is upright against the pile of empty bags. Instinctively he grabs it, being someone of a looker six years ago means that old habits die hard. Honestly, his looks were partially the reason, what with his windswept hair and rather surprisingly toned torso. In spire of this, he only earned a 5, typecasting him as a dumb muscular person without much help. Irumn still held hope for him to make through the old desert prison, and long story short he did.

But looking into the mirror only shows a withered ghost of the past. His Hunger Games were dominated by mother nature, so to speak. With only 6 tributes dying in the initial bloodbath, low but not the all time lowest, the tributes dispersed in the ancient torture facility, with food and water being a hot commodity. Four weeks in the arena, four arduous weeks of starvation and dehydration, and Verent eventually was pulled out with the blood of four tributes on his hands. He sets the mirror down, unwilling to look in the hollowed eye sockets ruined by morphling and furrowed brow marked by layers of wrinkles.

He steps into the shower for a brief moment where it's all he has not to bend on his knees and open his mouth for the water to trickle in like he did so much in the past. It's an odd habit that has him red faced when Irumn catches him occasionally, and today he seems like he has a hand on it. Unlike some of the other attractive victors he notes that also have left the arena, namely Adonis, Dior,-hell even older Radiance and her protege, Desire, he doesn't give two railroad tracks about his appearance. He skips brushing his teeth for the eighth time this week and ignores the wiry stubble on his chin.

Oh yeah he used to be like Dior and all the rest, but he gave up as soon as the doctor prescribed him two years after his arena exit to take several doses of morphling a day, well, it was an easy hatch. And it isn't like it's a hard commodity to get in the District, with the senile old pharmacist and the robbers and dealers around. It's a bad habit but it feels so damn good, and he doesn't even give a damn about what the old gossipy paparazzi has to say about it. He dresses mediocrely, a green polo shirt that compliments his eyes and torn denim pants as the television turns on.

They're running another fucking hunger games special. According to Irumn these go by quick when the quarter quell nears. They run the gamut of most attractive victors, luckiest breaks, favorite dresses, even biggest sexualized organs if you can believe that. He takes another dose early today, inserting the iv tube as a special about best tributes from District 6-how apt-comes on screen.

While in the morphling withdrawn state, he daydreams. He lapses back into the arena, the sweltering heat punctuated by sandstorms, the old torture devices that the careers put unwilling tributes on, and the terror. Massive antlions traverse the desert during the day, hills of sand killing at least 2 oblivious tributes, and the sun-god damn the sun. The heat of the day was made worse by the nightly chills, plummeting low, and his nightmares came through the night.

While he wasn't a strong tribute by any means, he was a good camouflage artist, and he had the most kills aside from the careers. He knew how to play dead, and the careers passed him as yet another victim to the antlion mutts. Add that to the fact that he kind of slipped under the radar, he really wasn't a noticeable tribute. His kills were two careers and two outliers in the dark dank prison.

The special ends with him being marked as the best victor from District 6, trumping Irumn at 2nd place because of her so called luck being too boring. He gets thirsty when clips of him in the desert show on the older modeled television. Another special comes on about the best tributes from District 5-no doubt one of the victors will top that. He moves to the kitchen with the intent to grab a small cup of water. He grabs a glass goblet from his cabinet and lets it run under the water for a meandering while, overfilling, but cold-just how he likes it.

He's a very odd victor when it comes to temperature. Maybe Irumn-yeah she did tell him-she told him that he and Adonis had the hottest arena days while he and Tody, District 12's only victor, had the coldest arena nights yet. A voice calls out to him when he gets lost in thought. "Verent?"

Oh yeah, he's forgetful enough to forget about his wife on good days. She clutches her swolen belly, she's due to pop soon actually, and with a hopefully healthy baby girl. It isn't until he looks down at her gentle hands that clutch a pair of suitcases that he remembers. "Sweetie, I'm sorry but I can't raise the baby with you like this. I'm moving in with my sister, Violet until you can clean up. I know this is hard, but I don't want to leave you, though this is for little Martha. I still love you, we'll visit every week and move back in once you've cleaned up."

He doesn't turn around, focused still on the water spilling into the sink. "I'll see you soon," Tiffany tells him solemnly. He's a disconnected victor, no calendars, watches, only the sun to guide his way through the smog and smoke of District 6. Some days he walks, aimlessly until the sun disappears for the night and he falls asleep under the benches of the mural in the District 6 justice building.

Worth noting that he doesn't much eat either, much like one of the older victors of the dynamic age, and it's especially stark in comparison to the photos of him after victory. The once strapping railroad repairman in training with a shock of curly black hair and eyes of gentle brown was now a recluse, simply put. He rarely eats because one of his kills was made durin a feast at the final 13. That girl from District 1, Reflection, didn't see him coming.

The days dribble on much like they always do, endless and forgettable and they merge into one. It's reaping day soon, the day of the accursed Quarter Quell. Irumn's old enough to have been alive for the first one, where a surprisingly strong boy went pretty far only to fall to the victor. He gets enough morphling in his system to last through the horrible reaping-where four souls will be marched to death in whatever horror the arena has in store.

But it can't be that bad, the first Quarter Quell arena was just a museum, he's even been there on a date once or twice, and well, golly gee the morphling in his system makes him as happy as can be. There are two victors for District 6, the second lowest in all of Panem, and they each will mentor two children. But the capitol wants all victors to celebrate the momentous occasion, if there were more than four then the remainders would party with each other all night long. Oy-it'll be hell. Maybe Tiff would be there, with their baby, and just maybe they'd get back together

Maybe.

 **Hey guys, hopps here**

 **I struggled a while with Verent's character, originally he was supposed to be a drug dealer who lapsed into his product, but I hope this ended up acceptable. I know it probably isn't as long as the recent ones or as good, but tell me what you think, school's been beating my brains out.**

 **Anyways, Verent would have been the male morphling for canon games 75. Any guesses for other canon 75 tributes?**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **P.S. Just an update, Haymitch's games will not recieve a blown out fiction, and it will be done in the style of Reaper94's Year by Year. Check it out if you have the time.**


	45. Lilo Suales

**_Victor #45:_**

 ** _Name: Lilo Suales_**

 ** _District: 4_**

 ** _Age During Games: 17_**

 ** _Games: 045_**

 ** _Death: Jake, Hunger Games 72_**

There's an unsteady rock of the boat floor in the ship's library as I continue to read my prefferred genre of literature, adventure. It is one of the few available perks I can see as a victor, besides surviving the Hunger Games and raising a family of my own. The bottle of chardonnay is open on the side table to my right and it sloshes ever so peculiarly inside the bottle. "Mom," my son asks as he pokes his head through the doorway.

"Yes Francisco?" I ask.

"We'll be due to hit mainland in fifteen minutes. I've authorized Luke to head out in one of the dinghies with some of our trays. He'll be delivering to the market first, then I'll disembark with the goods. I'm also going to send Piranha with the recovered sea items down with Daria into the pawn stores, they'll also get their wages," he explains. I mainly tune out Francisco, it's the same deal we've been through every week. The S.S. Triumph is a luxurious ship built off of all victor's collective wages. And with about 7 of us funding the expeditions, the ship is able to expand to all victor's needs. Andromeda says I have the biggest influence over it, and rightfully so.

"I understand," I cut him off. "Basically the same thing as always. Blah. I'll be going on my walk now, and don't be surprised if you find me on the sea." Francisco nods his head tiredly, at 17 years old he's a dead ringer for my brother, at least before he volunteered the year before me. District 4 has entered a funk of male victors that extended past Hail's death, but with me, the girls in the training center have experienced training much more better.

Though our sanity has gone down significantly-haha. District 4 always leaves the hunger games a little crazy, such a stark contrast from the usual laid back attitude of District 4. I groan as I look at the calendar over our fireplace, three more days until July 4, where the reaping must continue again. Even with a victory two years ago, District morale hasn't gone up, and I'm thinking we'll spend the rest of the decade without a volunteer. But even if we don't have a volunteer, they'll join the careers. It worked for Finnick and Annie, so it can work in the future. I slam my mystery book shut and shove it messily into the walls of the library, causing some others to fall.

I grab the first one, 'Tale of Two Siblings,' the supposed biography of Vander and Miriam before Miriam's death, and look through it. Yeah, my key to the tank is still in there, and it'll detach Kronk from his prison. Victors often keep just memories from the arena, at least from what Vander tells me, but I couldn't leave Kronk in the zoo and the old smarmy arena to be gawked at. Yeah, besides Vander, Kronk is my best friend from the time in the arena.

He swims around in the replica of his tank in the aquarium. Francisco the first, my brother, and Francisco's uncle, commissioned the tank just for me, for little Kronk to swim around. You know how victors are more popular the more kills they make in comparison to their past victors, well, I was a shapely woman, in it with Hephaestus of District 2 for a while before he dumped me in the cage, and popular for it. The image immortalized on my statue in the Victor's park is me with the lever, cackling wildly, I still remember the words during my famous pull- "PULL THE LEVER KRONK!"

It actually escapes my mouth during this rest period, and Kronk reacts like he always did, flailing around in the little water he needed to survive. He's a landshark, but prefers water. Kind of like me with my sanity I guess-haha.

"Come on Kronk," I say gently as I pull him out. He looks at me with big doggy eyes and I pet him just behind the ears and lets out a small growl. Francisco calls me crazy, just like Francisco did for bringing this lovable oaf back from the Capitol. But he and I are best friends, apart from me and Vander. I guess Vander-better known as Blight I guess, forgave District 4 those years after his victor. He's also on good terms with the girl who won the year after him, as I am with her. "You want to see yourself on television again?"

He nods his head in a short and sweet nod, sometimes I draw similarities between him and Vander, with their stout nods and often darting eyes. Vander, such a good friend, just like Kronk. It was from a recovered Capitol film I saw during training, and I liked the name almost as much as I like Hephaestus at the time. I mean that was before I killed him. "Look Kronk, that's you," I eagerly point out. It's my signature scene, dumping gallons of scalding hot water onto the career alliance that abandoned me days ago. It was a glorious moment of revenge, but I never did like the heat afterward, oddly enough.

The programming changes scenes as the girl from District 1 falls into the water, a stupid tramp named Calliope. A gift of medicine falls down to her-USELESS! I restrain my cackle when the scene switches to a stupid capitol host with a seashell for hair that never seems to shut up ever. I'm a bit immature and can't help but laugh as they replay the image of Calliope's face on the large screen. I know District 1 isn't that favorable to District 4, and that tension keeps the tributes from our Districts fighting viciously. We trail behind District 1 by 1 victor only, but they're just pretty trinkets waiting on shelves. What damage can they do? I know District 4 will catch up eventually.

Kronk squirms in my hands as the programming changes to a comedy sketch about the victors from District 9, at least how they'd all interact if they were alive together. Pharlax finds a waiter, only to tear off the wing to reveal it's Leo! Gerry's boyfriend! And they fuck on the table as Maury makes macaroni art and Jonas talks to fruit. I forget about District 9 often, and well, I can't actually name all the victors off of my head. Shameful I know, but a good amount of them are dead, like a little over a dozen I guess. Maybe I'll join them soon.

"That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it Kronk?" I ask my pet. He rolls in my lap without even responding. I hate it when he does this, rolling disdainfully when I ask him but a simple question. I doubt he even knew what I was talking about-I forget that people can't hear what I'm thinking at times, but I can almost read their minds perfectly. "I've got a ship to run though, I guess Balta can take care of it when I'm gone. You like Balta, don't you?"

I think he replies this time, in the same gruffy voice that Vander always says when I ask him too many questions. "I mean I guess, but she's not you," I presume he says.

"Just like you always do, huh Kronk?" He purrs in my hand as I tickle one of his fins to the side. I drop my voice before talking to him again. "How about freedom? I know you want it, and I'm sorry for being too dependent on you as the years went on. I mean, two years after Francisco's birth was-"

"Jules' death. Advanced Skin Cancer, I forgot that was a thing. Sorry, but I know how it happened. You've told me many times," he replies adamantly. "Go on, what were you saying about freedom?"

I roll my eyes at my best friend as he relaxes in the folds of my legs. "Right, you know, two years after, Jules died, unbelievably. Something tells me it's karma for what I did in the arena with Vern, what with that career massacre." As I recollect, the very scene plays on the television. Kronk is there, flopping in the remains of his hot water before growing limbs and following me as I cackle. "Four careers, at once, the record. And I took you out of that tank into what? Life in another one, occasional walks along the surface?"

"Don't worry about it. You've been a great friend over the year. I'd be content with freedom but even happier with you. Hell, I didn't think I'd live to be this old. Most mutts in the Capitol are decommissioned just before the victory tour, but they left me as a special gift for you," he explains. Huh, never knew that about most of the mutts, and what is decommissioned anyways?

He doesn't say much more before falling asleep in my lap. Funnily enough, Hephaestus used to do the very same. That was before Stellar and Regal of District 1 staged me getting lost, talking about how Hephaestus' plan worked after all. I get up gingerly, setting him down in one of his portable beds, and taking him outside. He always loved the cool air, so I decide to pamper him for the brief moment.

The scene shifts on the television again, and a still from Mags' arena appears, the boardwalk amusement park dropping to tumultuous waves down below. The still is animated to show the amusement park in its prime, the crystalline waves breaking over the modestly yellow shores under the kinetic beauties that were the ferris wheel and rollercoaster. Top three with her partner, avenging his death at the hands of District 2's girl to become the first female victor of District 4, no wonder she's a legend. She's also the sanest of the female victors. I guess motherhood does that for you. I mean, her partner didn't die when their child was still a toddler but the point still stands regardless.

Covine, Mags' youngest, now she's old enough to be a grandmother herself, early fifties but she's got a couple of children under her belt. But enough about her children, the still on the television switches to her spearing the District 2 girl, followed by a compilation of all the kills with one of District 4's favorites- the spear. She got rid of three tributes, and they all end the same way, blood splattered on the camera before the unlucky victims fall down onto the boardwalk. Falling, something that victims of District 4 seem to do. I don't know though, I just remember Stellar falling into the water, pushed down by Vern, and the horrible scars on her face. I'm bipolar about my kills, a side effect of the arena definitely, and I've scared Francisco many times.

My face lights up as I think of an idea. "Kronk," I prod him awake. He bares his fangs at me before relaxing once he sees me. "Come on, you need to pull the lever one more time. I have an idea."

If he's tired, can't really speak, or I don't hear him, I don't hear whatever reply comes out of his mouth. I set him on the uneasily swaying deck and he plods out of the room for a while. I'm sure he'll be going on his walk, but he'll return. There's an inflatable piece of watertight luggage that I keep hidden from the other victors, containing not much, but it is to me. Photos of my times with the victors from 7 and 11, Tscharner and Vander as we'd mill about the fountain to talk about our growing children and peculiarities of spouses. There was a day where I'd bring Francisco to meet Uncle Blight and Aunt Tscharner, during Finnick's year, yeah, and he got along well with Vander's daughter- Michelle. I still have the image of the five of us, me, Francisco, Vander, Michelle, and Tscharner within that luggage. My arena token, a fishhook given from Andromeda the year I volunteered has not seen the light of day since I created the cubby hole, several more photos of my arena-a derelict aquarium still filled with mutts and tanks and water, notes to my family that I wrote the day before reaping day, my wedding ring, they're all in there.

Hesitantly I grab it, slamming the compartment closed and chasing after Kronk into the open deck. He'll find me, I know he will, so I begin to set up my plan. I grab one of the twenty person lifeboats on our ship deck, as our ship is built to handle two hundred we have ten of these-plus five more in storage, and set it up on the davits. I do this hastily, as much as I love Francisco he wouldn't let me do this, and I just hope he understands why I need to. I hope he doesn't volunteer in the future, he'll be the last of the Suales, and that girl he's been with definitely is a nice one.

Kronk catches me just as the lifeboat fits into the last of the davits. He recognizes what I'm doing and jumps in with the inflatable piece of luggage. I jump in shortly after, looking downward ever so briefly at the tussling waves that peak at at least 10 feet or so. The ration of food is still in the lifeboat safe spot, as is the water, but I don't have time to check them over before the crowd of crew members Kronk must have attracted run over. They swarm the deck, reaching out, but I reach backwards. "Mom…" Francisco calls out as he reaches his hand towards me.

It's a split second decision fueled by a million thought flashing through my mind in half that time. I'm sent back to the arena, Hephaestus holding his hand out for me, only to let District 1 take care of me. Getting lost, finding Kronk-Kronk! He's still there, hand on the lever to release. Release into the water, yeah. I look at him, and he nods. I shout my famous words, "PULL THE LEVER KRONK!"

The weird sensation I feel immediately after isn't the one I'm accustomed to in my nightmares, I'm usually crushed by the falling water before it burns me, and that's a different feeling from falling. "WRONG LEVER!" I manage to say before I hit the water. Vaguely I can hear the screams of the crew, Francisco being held back, the sudden stop of the ship. I disappear under the water with my boat, never to return. At least I've finally paid for my murders.

 **Hey Guys, Hopps Here**

 **Major writer's block through this chapter, so Lilo might be a little loco in the story. Also, big disney shout outs. Find them, and you get a mention. Anyways, Next chapter should be more comprehensive, Hunger Games 46 Vedits. Guess what's going to happen?**

 **Also, can I have your thoughts on Lilo and Kronk? I had a lot of fun writing District 4, as I always do, but Kronk was an oddity, but I dug myself into that hole with Desire's year. Anyways, i hope you enjoyed**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **P.S. Once again, sorry for the delay in updates. I'm itching to get into the later years, so this may seem rushed. Sorry**


	46. Vedits Montcliff

_**Victor #46:**_

 _ **Name: Vedits Montcliff**_

 _ **District: 05**_

 _ **Age During Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 046**_

 _ **Death: 108, Boreous**_

 _To the Victor of Hunger Games 46,_

 _Like it or not, you are one of us, the victors, a family of several dozen murderers like yourself. And it's unfortunate to say but we've lost one of our older members. Jonas Mephrous, District 9, died at 48 years old last saturday, one month and six days before your victory tour. He was sickly, and lost an ongoing battle with pneumonia. He maintained a great presence for the decades he mentored. His loss is something to be lamented, and all victors are thus invited to celebrate a life well lived-a life saved._

 _Gerrian Tomion, Jonas' Mentor, District 9_

The letter sits on the eleven trains, customized for the dozens embarking to the grains in multiple copies on a dark mahogany table rattling through the Districts. The victors are due to stay for three days, not long enough to explore much of the District, but a brief and unusual opportunity to catch up is on their minds. Bonding as an odd family, odd and vulnerable-especially now.

The first to come is District 1, aptly enough. An older man, one of the later victors in the first decade runs into the arms of his lover, joined by the rest of the luxury careers. They wait awhile, allowing the rest of the trains to arrive in District 9, and they come within the hour. District 7, the next powerful District after District 9, soon follows with a distinct smell of pine. District 2, District 10, District 4, District 11, District 8 within the next ten minutes, enveloping the steadily growing circle of victors in a wider hug. District 5, 12 within the next fifteen, unmoving from their position on the train station, hugging the dozens of victors tighter. Districts 3 and 6 are last, having to go through the tightest security procedures through their train stations, completing the massive hug.

They break it after another five minutes, the man at the center-Jonas' mentor clears his throat and they all back off. "We have to take the cars to the cemetery," Gerry explains. "Jonas' parents passed a while ago, and he'll be buried within the same plot. The Capitol arranged for us to pile in limousines, four or so each, and then victor's village for the reception."

The victors nod, drying their tears, and follow one of their first to the entrance, flanked by respectful capitol camera crews and officials. Gerry takes his crew, Maury, Pharlax, and Leo into one of the limousines, leading the way for the rest of the victors to follow. District 2 joins up with District 8, piling into the next several. Guided by a steady hand, one of their newer victors manages not to scream and she piles in with her friends, Kronk, Vander, and Tscharner, alongside her mentor into one of the last limos. The latest victor hesitates as her mentor steps in with her love into one of the other last limousines. She lets them drive off, waiting in the train station with one other victor, a handsome boy from several years ago. "Hey, umm, have we met?" she asks timidly.

The boy turns to him with bloodshot and sunken eyes, but he smiles meekly and replies. "I don't think I met you in the lounge afterwards. Vedits, isn't it?" he asks politely.

"Y-Yeah," she replies. "And District 6, Verent? You're the only boy to come home from that District so I think it might be you, right?"

He nods shakily, but politely, and he stifles something of a brief cough before the last of the cars drives up to the station. "Shocked, I presume?" he asks as she hesitates.

"It kind of puts life into perspective. Taken down by something so little, and so manageable," she mulls. They pile into the car, leaving the train station behind endlessly rolling waves of grain. "Did you meet him? Jonas?"

He shakes his head. "Just formalities. We weren't close. You?"

"I just met his tribute, I allied with his boy for a week after we fled the bloodbath. He was killed in a tunnel collapse. Been having back problems for a while, but I don't want to think about what could have happened if Lubbock didn't get that four boy. Was Jonas a nice guy?"

"I'm sure he was. He was the second victor from District 9, won in Hunger Games 14, didn't eat a lot. Kind of had this ever present cough, not much else I can say. He liked gambling a little though, pretty good at board games too. Favorite was Capitolism, the one every victor's house comes with?"

The waves of amber segue into multicolored quilts of grains, taller than Vedits and Verent, maybe even taller than Romulus, but they're interrupted with the presence of a dingy grey parlor surrounding erect tombstones on a barren plot. "We're here," the driver says quietly, hiding his capitol affliction. "Jonas was always one of my favorite lower victors. Tell him his fans will miss him from the Capitol."

He drives off, waiting in the lot to drive the rest of the victors to District 9's victor homes. There's an ominous and grim sense of tranquility through the auditorium. Jonas' casket is elevated on a tiny stage a foot up from the floor, next to his profile picture. The victors sit in the front row, Leopold cradles Gerry while they look on at Gerry's first success, Lilo and Blight distract themselves from the sad mood of the place with Kronk, Vedits and Verent slip in with their fellow victors from their District, just in front of several capitol officials trying their best to look sullen with flamboyant outfits. Jonas' brother and sister, saddened people with their families take the spot closest to his casket, peering over occasionally before breaking down in tears.

Gerry takes the microphone after one of the Victors from district 2, actually Lupus the first victor gives initial thoughts about losing one of the first of dozens of family members, bonded by unusual circumstances. His voice is shaky as he speaks, but the thought stands, and echoes through the empty hall. He steps down. Soon, Cleopatra from District 2, the first girl from District 2 and a profilic writer chimes in. "I admit, watching him lifted out of the arena because of Timon's sacrifice was a little jarring in the past. Now, District 2 and District 9, even back then, that was kind of odd," she says jokingly in an attempt to get at least a chuckle. There are small smiles, but no rounds of hearty laughter. "I've come to grow to like Jonas, much like Timon's devotion to getting his ally outside of the arena. Things happen in the games for a reason, and I'm glad Jonas was one of the survivors."

She sits down to hearty applause, before Leo takes the stage with stories. "I'm going to miss that little guy. I mean in the capitol, he'd always force me and Gerry out of the room when we'd just get a little too intimate in front of Gerry's tributes, gonna miss that little prod. He was a valiant fighter, a worthy mentor, and he'll be missed through Panem," Leopold says before leaving, staggering gently into his boyfriend of four decades.

More and more victors take the stage, revealing niceties and peculiarities, the first girl, Acacia lamenting on his favorite foods, the sole victor from District 12 choking through a poem he wrote, Mullen hugging Jonas' family before resting with his head in his arms, the headmistress of District 2 telling of Jonas' courage, the grumpy woman from District 10 grumbling about losing two fun victors within ten years of each other, and finally, District 2's latest victor, Zephyr, leading the crowd through a song about returning to the beauty of the grains, one from before Panem, during the natal stages of America, simplistic, and actually had to deal with the mines more.

The main procession ended after the last note for "Clementine," rang through the parlor. With heavy feet, Jonas' mentor made his way to the pedestal and spoke again. "Thank you for joining me today, the capitol has allowed the opening of Victor's Village for all of you, temporary residences with utmost care are just on the outskirts, and tomorrow is Jonas' burial. I request to see you there for his sake. Are there any final words for Jonas?"

He left the podium with heartfelt applause, voices strained from sadness and exhaustion, and left the parlor with Jonas' kin-with Leopold not too far behind. The victors clear out of the room almost simultaneously, emptying the room quickly for the drive to victor's village nearly fifteen miles away. "Barbara, can I stay for a bit? I kind of want to thank Jonas," Vedits asked her mentor cautiously.

The older woman nodded as she rested her head on Mullen's shoulders. "Don't stay for too long, it's just about five o'clock and we'll be eating soon," she cautioned just as they left.

Seemingly alone, Vedits walked to the coffin slowly, keeping her head bowed as she neared the casket. Jonas, 49 years old, was almost as skinny as some of the regular District people she saw in the field, toiling after years. She wouldn't have guessed that the eyes once bore a light of determination, motivation, a desire to make things right after his ally fell into that piranha plant. But still- a victor, dead before his fifties, and he wasn't the first to die. The thoughts of mortality flood in, scaring her again, like the nightmares do at times, but she lets her voice out in a whisper, and she's calm. "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine..." she whispers, her last note carrying through the empty parlor.

She stares at Jonas again, the gaunt man with his eyes closed, never to open, finally at peace. "Every where I go, I'm gonna let it shine," her voice carries again. "Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine."

Another voice catches the last word, harmonizing uneasily until they find the pitch, and the owner turns to Vedits, smiling uneasily as they look in at Jonas' body. "You have a lovely voice," the man says warmly. "You should let it shine more often. Zephyr Cavalieus, District 2."

She lets out a light gasp, the tribute from District 2 that year was a monster, torturing a quarter of the tributes before his death at Vedits' hands (quite the upset too, found in a trap and throat slit as he was knocked out). Warily she grabs the older man's hand, shaking it cautionarily before squeaking, "Vedits Montcliff. District 5. I am so, so, so sorry about that boy. He was a monster but he didn't deserve the end he got. None of us did, and now it's going to be fruitless because-"

"Breathe, Ms. Montcliff," Zephyr chuckles. For a man of his massive size, his voice is on the higher end of the spectrum. "I didn't really like what he did, or who he was. I mean, the biggest softie out of District 2 is bound to be looked on with harsh eyes in the district. You notice I don't hang out often with the other careers, much too casual about their own victories. We don't hold what happens in the arena against each other too severely. Come on, lighten up. You sound like you've seen a ghost."

She lets out a little giggle, guardful but slowly lightening up. "Sorry. In District 5, the careers are scary, simply put. With what the four girl did to Mullen during his games, killing that lovely girl afterwards, i hope you know why I'm fearful but-"

"It's no problem. But we aren't all like that. And most of us have a soft side, gravitating to the other victors more often than our own districts, amiable and friendly. Romulus, Daphne, Andromeda, Cane, Dior, Minercal-those are the kinds of careers I think you're worried about, aren't you?" She nods before making a move to the door. "I'll head out with you, and maybe we can harmonize in the car. I think Gerry would like to hear a duet."

"Just a moment. I need to just-take it all in, a victor dying this soon."

"We aren't invincible," Zephyr tells her softly. "Pneumonia, Jonas was always a sickly person. He was a divisive figure in District 2, even for us Talc-ranks. Yeah, that's what they called us, Talc-ranks. The highest were always Corundumites, Diamonds were reserved for the victors. I always thought of him as an honorary career. Come on, we should go."

Vedits glanced at the body one more time, the slowly dimming lights did bring something of fullness to his face, something that might not have been there years ago, according to Zephyr. "Yeah. Jonas Mephrous, sounds like a name well lived."

"I'm sure it was. Let's go," he said, turning her out of the room.

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Okay, two major things. District 5's second victor, and Jonas' death. Those of you keeping track of the headers, know that there's going to be a change in format with them later. As we reach the later games, I'll display instead of the Hunger Games year they died during, how many years after the Hunger Games they died. I have about 160 games lined up, possibly going to change, possibly not.**

 **Anyways, enough about that. Any thoughts on Vedits? Jonas' death? Any suggestions for the change in format? I like these victor to victor interactions, but if you want to see something new let me know. I have something planned for Hunger Games 50 though, so look out for that**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	47. Monaghue Cress

_**Victor #47:**_

 _ **Name: Monaghue Cress**_

 _ **District: 09**_

 _ **Age During Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 047**_

 _ **Death: 097, Curtis**_

" _Grab the books and go, memorabilia could only last for so long". The mass evacuation of District 9 was underway with the many residents flowing into the wilderness separating Districts 3, 10, 11, and 6. A select few was evacuating the non-mentoring victors in victors village, trying to drag them through the wilderness. Mr. Montoya, one of the residents during the last Hunger Games-160 actually still going on, tried to run back for supplies, he knew his family loved looking at the old books of Mr. Cress. They drag him back, escorting him underground, but the books are recovered just before the destruction of all houses that were occupied before the 75th unrest._

 _In the refugee camp miles away, tiny hands grab at a book falling apart at the seams ever so viciously before a large hand yanked it out. With tears in her eyes, the owner began to read the long lost dictionary of Monaghue Cress._

 _Several pages were torn out, several scribbled over, and several with edits in them. She flocked to a pink hilighted word, REaping, and began to read it aloud._

 **Reaping:**

 **When my life when down to poop [shit]. I was a community home kid, unlike Pharlax and Jonas and any other victor before me. Now, the square was quiet because an empty chair was there, the one Jonas used to sit on every so often. He was a sickly man even before a decade of his death. He made an alliance with District 2, I knew I wasn't going to be in with the careers even if I tried.**

 **As a community home kid, I had many jobs. Taking care of the little ones was the main priority for all of them, meaning I had to take several jobs in order to get back. And tesserae was enough just for me, I got to keep what I picked in the fields.**

 **As luck would have it, my name was picked. I saw my girl, Melinda, scream hoarsely, but I couldn't turn to face her, I had to be strong for the District, the kids, for everyone**

 _The children grow silent after the reading of the first mark word. Then the leader of the 50 of them announces they need to move again, closer to 11, one of the first Districts to break free. The victors in the Capitol aren't doing so hot they'll probably be executed of treason, but so long as the populace loves them then the war can continue. There'll be a separate mission to save them, but the majority of District 9 has escaped the firebombs._

 _They move again, stopping along a river to refill their water canisters and fishing, before moving deeper in the wilderness. There's another group, about ten miles ahead, their goal is to meet up with them, and any other refugees, then stay on the outskirts of 11. It's a tedious process to fill the water bottles and the woman takes the time to read another word from the dictionary out_

 **Love:**

 **I almost ruined it with the Hunger Games. Melinda was a phenomenal woman, sticking with me through the victory interviews and final eight, even through my nightmares. I couldn't give her what she deserved for years because of nightmares, and I waited until she was almost going to leave when I proposed. I love Melinda, the light of my life, but I can't fulfill her dreams of children.**

 **Things have been unstable after the Hunger Games, but she's my rock in my life. My primary motivation to get through even in the worst of times, and I can't make her happy all the times-which kills me- but she deserves so much more than a broken man. She deserves a man who can father children, not one who doesn't want to bring them in the world for the reaping.**

 **But she loves me, and that's all I ask for.**

 _It's a rest day today, the scouting exposition found peacekeepers roaming through the woods with guns and there's an occasional hum of hovercrafts. They have to do this every so often, or else their mission is over before they can even see the end of the woods. They hide in a cave, expansive enough for food to cultivate within, scavenging through the rest of the meal before relaxing. The young children, relatives to the victors still in District 9 or in the Capitol, are restless, missing their parents, but still exhausted. The woman pulls out the book again, rifling through another page and landing on one about capitolites_

 **Capitolites:**

 **Vultures. The lot of them, stupid frills and fromages, mourning was apparently in style for District 9 as we were dressed in memory of Jonas by our stylists. Stupid fat pricks waiting for us to starve or suffer in the arena just so they can eat their bread everywhere.**

 **Poppy Ponicherry, daughter to the first MC, is the worst. She hovers around the chariots like a vulture, waiting for her prey to do something interesting just for an article in Games Games and Games. I met her after my victory, she touched my torso, enamored, and let me go with compliments with how hot I was through the Hunger Games. Several of the other victors of the 40's, similarly have had other reporters feel them up as Poppy did to me.**

 **There are sponsors and bettors, each proclaiming to let me through just so they can get a pay off. Districts 7 and 9 have had the highest non-career district totals for years, with District 8 not too far behind. District 12 is at the bottom and District 6 second to the bottom, by virtue of having one less victor than District 6. I get seizures just thinking of the Capitol.**

 _The cave collapses after they leave, rendered inhospitable by hovercrafts patrolling and landing on the shaky structure. They move forward, finding one of the members of the ill-fated other group. They lost 35 of their 50 stragglers from a combination of mutt attacks and natural illnesses. The fifteen of them merge with the dwindling 45, increasing their numbers to 60. By their counts District 11's main refugee camp, where stragglers are converted into warriors, shouldn't be too far off. It's another rest day where they delegate supplies and map out the rest of the journey, before the journey begins again. She reads as she walks, adored by the children constantly trailing her._

 **Training Scores:**

 **Just to show how messed up [fucked] you are. District 9, 7, and 8 have been able to score on par with the careers for my year, as they mainly do. We get in the range of 6-8, the highest of the outliers, better than 3,5, and 6 and 10-12. It looks like a career victory as soon as the last score, a two from the starving District 12 girl shows on the screen, compared to the two tens and four nines from the careers.**

 **District 9 has been able to make it home every decade, but I'm sure Melinda was let down when I got a seven, I know I need to come back to her, the rock of my life.**

 _The rest of the days they read the dictionary just as they crept slowly to the camp. Mr. Montoya, one of the residents, gets his leg nearly blown up by a mine, and though he's cauterized, he can't go much longer, while the camp looms on the horizon, they can make it, but it's only a matter of time before he's dead._

 _They read as they always do, they read to pass the time, flipping to the page Mr. Cress marked for the bloodbath._

 **Bloodbath:**

 **In the Hunger Games the first challenge is getting out of the bloodbath. What they don't tell you is once you get it, it's terribly difficult to get out. The careers typically survive the bloodbath, but each tribute from the careers has died on the first day during at least one Hunger Games.**

 **Do you need to run? Every tribute should evaluate if they need too. In order of priority, look for surroundings, if it's natural run away. Look for threats-the careers, the occasional large rancher or harvester from District 10 or a sly girl from the middle districts. Find your allies and run to them just after the bloodbath with a few choice supplies.**

 _The rest of the days before District 11 are repetitive. They almost lose several refugees before the camp is within reach, but the three week long journey draws to a close as District 11 appears on the horizon. The camp sends out a troop to intercept them, and they use jeeps imported from District 6 to drag them over. Mr. Montoya is healed rapidly, aided by refugees from District 12 and 13 before the end of the third week._

 _Ms. Sirus, one of the oldest residents begins to read to the children again as they wait on the trucks, moving to deter the flocking peacekeepers and swarming hovercrafts._

 **Arena:**

 **Hard to define what it is. All victors go through 2 arenas, one physical and one mental. The physical arena is what the audience sees, the mental arena is reserved for the victor. They run the gamut to forest arenas referred to 'multi-terrains' and nightmarish hedge mazes to towering city blocks and old amusement parks. They're opened for capitol tourism several months after victory, usually during the victory tour. No victor returns to their arena.**

 **Nightly roll call:**

 **They show the tributes in the sky, keeping the living ones alive. They don't fire the cannons until just before the roll call and my games was one of those instances. Eleven dead, killed by a bloodthirsty career pack this year. I saw the first two die first hand-the tributes from District 3, then from what my ally-Currus from Six, his partner died shortly after, then one of the District 10 tributes, but we don't know about the rest. The roll call played in the night, District 3 being out, then District 5's boy and girl, then Currus' partner, the girl of the tributes from District 8, the District 10 boy, then all from 11 and 12. Their faces were all I saw of them. I would find that Nan, my partner, made it to 12th place on day 3, killed by the careers after taking out the weakest, the girl from District 1.**

 **Alliances:**

 **Who you find yourself comfortable with in the arena, saving yourself for a life and death matter. If unfortunate, this turns into a friendship, or as other victors experience, something more. I don't know what Currus' thought of me, I let him sleep in my sleeping bag when the nights got cold and the shivers became too hard. He was a former addict, on the road to approval, he explained this to me as we saw the eighth place tribute, the girl from District 2 shimmer in the sky for one final time. We hadn't made a kill yet, but we would have to.**

 **Killing was one of the subjects we couldn't talk about. In spite of Currus being a former addict, he was the same age as I and stood to my height at five foot ten, stronger than he looked. Slowly we talked, finally realizing that he was my friend the day before the finale, when placers 6th and 5th-the tributes from District 4 appeared in the sky.**

 **Finale:**

 **The last event of the Hunger Games, usually a full blown spectacle. Currus and I were awoken by an earthquake in our ridge, then driven forth by the advent of a mega tsunami roaring through. We both barely made it onto the center point of the arena, a thundering mesa where the cornucopia used to be. The girl from District 7 and the boy from District 2 joined us.**

 **Four would dwindle to three when District 7's girl tried to attack the District 2 boy with her axe. She got a good blow on his calf before staggering backwards and stabbed in the heart. He kicked her off of the mountain before Currus and I decided to attack him. Three eighteen year old boys, high odds of winning for all of us.**

 **I charged at District 2 with all my might, as did Currus. I pulled out a knife from the 2 boy's belt and tried to make a move at his throat, slitting it slightly before Currus was able to knock him off balance. Currus was sent back with a kick and almost knocked out. I grappled with the District 2 boy before he gained the advantage, his blood dripping over my neck. I dealt a kick to get him off of me and another one to send him into the water.**

 **His cannon fired. Currus and I looked at each other uneasily. I pushed him in the water. His cannon fired. I won.**

 **Healing:**

 **Something no victor can truly say they went through. The first victor had nearly half a century to heal, but he's still plagued. Nightmares of mutts and water can only lessen in the future, but they still scare the shit out of you, putting it bluntly. There's something irreperable with killing, but I guess the others are nice. I'm glad to be one of them**

" _Ms. Sirus," a man calls out to the woman holding the book. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Madame victor. The years have been kind to you, but we need your aid."_

 _The District 9 victor closes the book and gives it to the children, who read it eagerly. "Very well, with whom am I talking to?"_

" _Lieutenant Curkis, a fellow victor waits for you in another room. With a few of 11's tributes still in the arena, we fear the worst for Ulri. We're hoping that the tributes can keep the capitol sedated while we move to District 5, aiding them and District 8 in the process. Are you in MAdam?"_

" _Yes," Nadia Sirus replies in a heartbeat. Even as an aging woman, she'll live to see the end of the Hunger Games, and the death of the gamemaking bastards._

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I know this chapter was kind of bizzare, but I'm setting up the plans I have for the future. I hope that you were able to see both timelines as something coherent and were entertained.**

 **We get to see some more victors too, and the initial look for Hunger Games 160. I know it seems complicated, but I'm going to be working around some things to have them make more sense.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 _ **PS. Canon victor next, guess who it is**_


	48. Brutus Anobarius

_Real Quick, Check out Reader Castellan's work, Dawn of Light. I have a tribute there and I want to know what you guys think, and submit for Mesa: the 44th Hunger games by SingleWave. I have a tribute there for the submission process, and would like some of you to submit for SingleWave. There's also Reaper94's work, and let's see if we can have some tributes for his 24th Games._

 _ **Victor #48:**_

 _ **Name: Brutus Anobarius**_

 _ **District: 02**_

 _ **Age During Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 048**_

 _ **Death: Hunger Games 120, Zacharias**_

 _It's a rainy day when Mr. Anobarius, a strong but sickening man of the mines, comes into his humble house, filled to the brim of marble dust and children under reaping age. His partner, a woman just as strong if a little wispier, meets him at the door, holding a letter anxiously in her hands. "News," he tells his wife._

" _I've got some too," Ms. Tharius tells her. She holds the letter trembling in her hands, fearful because she's already opened it and her children are soon to be gone. They eat their meal of cabbage broth and old orange juice before Ms. Gaius has her children stay at the table for a while. "Brutus," she tells her third oldest._

 _The boy, a strong scrapper who picks fights at school for tesserae. He's something of a tempermental boy, ten years old but already in the encroaches of puberty. He looks up with wide blue eyes and has his mouth open slightly. "Yes mom?"_

 _Damn. All the harder for Ms. Tharius to let him go now, he doesn't call her mom unless he's scared. "We'll have more time to talk about this, but you've been scoped out by the institute. If you join we'll get money to save the mines. I want to leave this up to you though. Your father and I will talk to you later tonight. And we're going to have to cut down on clothing since the mine is out. Good night you six, school starts early tomorrow."_

 _For the night, Brutus Anobarius, who takes after his father's impulsiveness, is up when he hears Mr. Anobarius and Ms. Tharius talking. Even if they aren't married, there's a lot of instability among family dynamics in the career Districts, Brutus loves the both of them as both of his parents. He gets up from his bed, taking care not to wake up older brother Creon and older sister Albina, dodges his three sleeping siblings on the floor, and opens the door to his parents room._

" _Yes Brutus?" Mr. Anobarius asks him._

" _Today at school, we learned one new word for our story," Brutus explains timidly. "Mom, Dad, we learned that to contribute is to give in order to help for something. I'm one of the older siblings, and I think I can contribute now."_

 _There's a sigh from both parents, and they walk to their boy. "I'm scared for your future," Mr. Anobarius confesses._

" _I know. I'm scared too, but I just want to protect you guys. I want to-"_

" _Contribute," Ms. Tharius completes. "We'll take you to the academy on saturday." They hug for a long while, almost until the sun rises in the Anobarius-Tharius home._

The sun rises in the Victor's Village compound the same way it always does, cutting off at the mountain tops and roaming over the villages. There are nine official homeowners, the biggest success in all of Panem, and are mainly stable, save for a few nightmares here or there. They're an odd family, so to say, some of the more effective killers in all of Panem, trying to find a life of peace and quiet after the arena and in between the craze of teaching those at the peacekeeper academy.

It's quiet as the sun kisses the rooftop of the Victor village mansions, only interrupted by the gentle creak of a porch swing on the newly occupied house. Brutus Anobarius, 18 years old, sits on the swing, sipping at a cup of joe as he slowly watches the dew form on the freshly cut lawns. He ponders a little, a victor's favorite pastime is thinking, and more often than not loses himself to the arena, only a couple of weeks behind them on the late summer morning.

 _ **It's one of the more beautiful arenas, but also one of the simpler ones, could very well pass for a standard multi-terrain arena. The six trained careers appear evenly spaced apart along the perimeter of the soon to be battlefield, facing the golden horn. Ten seconds until the gong rings, there's a large roar through the arena as a massive wave creeps unsettlingly close to the tributes as they prepare to run. It disappears in the soil, leaving no traces, and the gong rings.**_

He plays through the game in order, once a day if not three times, still fresh and bloodied if not for the medical orderlies after Brutus' victory. "Gave up a lot for this," he muses. "Contributing for several teens you hardly know, and ineligible to volunteer for future games now. But you love them, don't you Brutus?" He closes his eyes as the family picture begins to swim through his mind, Creon, now twenty years old, 19 year old Albina, sixteen year old Monica, fifteen year old Vinson, and thirteen year old Kia, then their parents, Athena Tharius and Marcus Anobarius.

There's a shift of the wind and Brutus shoots his eyes open, darting the pupils across the landscape of the village as he tries to discern the threat. "Calm down son," a haughty voice tells him. The victor turns slightly to find his mentor, droopy eyed and old but still hale after almost 50 years out of the arena. "Just thought I'd join you this fine morning, that's fine with you, isn't it, True Patriot?"

Brutus matches his mentor's smile as he recalls the nickname bestowed by the Capitol. "Of course it is," he warmly says to Lupus. The older man carries with him a cup of coffee identical to Brutus' own, filling the village with sounds of sipping as the day warms up. The capitol audience knew Brutus was to be the fan favorite, the spitting image of his mentor, and almost as effective as him. Almost.

 _ **The first tribute to go down after the gong is the girl from District 9, twigs for arms and bulging eyes, grasping at her throat to remove the knife. The girl from District 1, Heiress, shouts to her allies in a whoop of triumph even as the bloodbath wages on. Brutus makes the next two kills, slitting the throat of the girl from District 8 before using a sword in his other hand to bury it in the stomach of a boy from District 5. Down next are a boy and girl from District 12, the boy falling before his partner in a spray of blood and the girl having her legs nearly cut off. Brutus and his partner, a strong girl named Sidian exchange a brief nod before they move on.**_

"I'm sorry Brutus, did you say something?" Lupus asks concerned.

He jolts out, fixing his blue eyes to something more comprehensible as he faces his mentor. "I'm just thinking about visiting Creon today. His girl is pregnant and I'm thinking about getting them a new blanket," he responds.

"Seems like District 8 is already rubbing off on you," Lupus chortles. "One of your own or-"

"From District 8, one of Weaven's sisters' that she made for me. Anything to support District 8," he politely replies.

"Unlikely friendships form as a result of unlikely circumstances. How many blankets do you have now?"

"I think three dozen, all on my bed. It feels pretty comfortable," Brutus replies idly. He doesn't tell Lupus how he cuddles in them at night, snuggled in something like a mountain of blankets, it's a comfort that only he needs to know about.

 _ **The cannons sound just before the roll call, like the year before. Twelve tributes, possibly the record, as the careers begin to set up camp. All six of them have survived, stealthy Coral from District 4, her partner the boisterous Kai, Heiress and her partner, Duke, and District 2, and they begin to delegate the supplies. "I got District 5's boy, District 8's girl, and 12's boy in the bloodbath," Brutus quietly tells Heiress.**_

" _ **Impressive," she compliments. "Got the 9 girl and the three boy," she tells him.**_

 _ **Their brief conversation is interrupted by the first night's roll call. District 3's boy is the first one up, then both tribtues from District 5-Kai got the girl, then one of the morphling addicts from District 6-Coral's kill, the boy from District 7 (Sidian), both from District 8 (Duke claimed the boy from 8), the girl from District 9, the District 10 boy- claimed by Sidian, the 11 girl, claimed by Duke, and both tributes from District 12.**_

"Alright Brutus, I know blankets aren't the only thing on your mind. After 50 years you know when a victor is down in the dumps, come on, spill it out," Lupus seriously prods. His gaze hardens but Brutus doesn't turn.

"I'll be training after getting the blankets down," he says. "But it's when I'm training the arena flashbacks happen. Just talking with Heiress as she died, second place out of 24. I doubt anyone is going to remember her."

 _ **It's day 3, a successful hunt in which Brutus and Duke claim two kills, turns from a night of celebration to a night of frenzy when the gamemakers unleash deer mutts on the tributes, flooding another creek to impede escape. The careers kills three before they're driven into the water, clinging onto a grab bag of important weapons before the worst. Heiress and Brutus turn up several hundred yards away, carried by the shallow but tumultuous stream into a distant part of the forest.**_

 _ **She begins to panic, screaming and causing a rustle in the trees. Brutus looks at her with equally wide eyes and tries to shut her up before doing the one thing he saw his father do to get his mother to calm down. Kiss her. She melts in his arms before gaining composure. "I didn't think you liked me like that," she stutters.**_

" _ **Neither did I, but I'm glad you've calmed down," he replies. They settle in for the night, watching the girl from District 7 (Brutus' kill) and the boy from District 11, Duke's kill. "You want to share a sleeping bag, I think I lost mine in the river."**_

"Her family will remember, they'll remember the brave girl and her boyfriend through the arena. Sorry but I'm not as good at motivational pep talks as Lumin."  
Brutus grins fondly. "And her boyfriend would remember her. Is it bad that I couldn't save her?"

"No, no, all aliances end someday. You know that Brutus, we showed you all games through your curriculum." That was true, every year during July, on the filler days for the Hunger Games, they catch a new hunger games every day, sometimes 2, beginning with the most recent and always ending on Lupus. Always.

 _ **Heiress is on the floor, bleeding through the gaping wound in her stomach. Duke is about to throw another spear before Brutus charges at him, skipping over the splashing waters and drifting branches to deal slice after slice to that betraying motherfucker from District 1. It's a lengthy battle, one to be remembered as one of the most legendary duels, but Brutus overpowers the boy and slits his throat, marking his tenth kill.**_

 _ **Gingerly he kneels in front of Heiress, her eyes slowly moving to meet her boyfriend through the arena. "Brutus," she feebly calls to him. He bends his head forward. "Brutus, District 2 is proud. Thank you for the best last week of my life I could ever ask for."**_

" _ **District 1 won't forget you," he replies boldly. "I'll make them remember," he grunts as he tries to fit his arm back in his socket.**_

 _ **Her voice drops, he bends over a little farther to hear her last request. "Just end it. Ten minutes of this hole and it's feeling a bit cold."**_

 _ **The normally collected career almost drops his last weapon into the stream. "I don't want to do this," he tries to protest.**_

" _ **I'm so glad to have you as my boyfriend, my first and last. I'll love you regardless," she dotes.**_

 _ **He bends his head down for one last kiss, quietly running his dagger through Heiress' throat. The breath doesn't leave her lips until his lips leave hers. And the cannon fires after a minute of solitude.**_

"They won't forget her," Brutus resolutely says.

"I'm glad you remember your adamance. Zephyr's cooking breakfast today, we can join him. I'll meet you there," Lupus tells Brutus before leaving.

"Looks like you've contributed in the long run, eh Mr. Anobarius," he asks himself. The sun finally peaks over the Village mountain, showering the front doors with a cascade of light and prompting the rest of them to wake up. "Even if they forget you, Heiress, I'll still remember."

It's three months later, just a month before the victory tour, and Brutus is asked to be the godfather to Creon's new child. They name her Heiress. He gives her his first blanket he's ever made himself, one of towering castles and glimmering jewels, memory to the girl he loved in the arena.

On the tour, Duke's father tries to start an altercation, only to be held back by Heiress' mother. Lupus watches from afar as Brutus calms the raging parent down, before walking away with the older woman. For the first time in 48 years, Lupus drinks. He finished his job for the last time. He dies before Brutus brings out his first victor, but Lupus' words stay with the man for the rest of his life. Lupus never had children of his own, but Brutus is as close to him as a son would be to his father.

 **Hey Guys Hopps here**

 **I'm sorry if you're not a fan of this rendition of Brutus. I headcanonized him as a bruiser with something of a soft center, based on what I've seen from Gamemaker97 and Oisinn55's work. I tried to make him as noble as he is through Lorata's work while trying to hide some of his negative qualities from FernWithy's interpretations. Check out these authors for amazing renditions of Brutus through the fanon.**

 **And I'm sorry for the sporadic updates. SInce school is starting, I've been pooped out.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	49. Cypress Barksfield

_**Victor #49:**_

 _ **Name: Cypress Barksfield**_

 _ **District: 07  
**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 049**_

 _ **Death: 071, Dash  
**_

Cypress Barksfield had the strangest job in the village without a doubt. His parents were the gravekeepers, authorizing burials and cremations-far more popular for District custom, but there are stubborn families who don't want the bodies burned. He finds that the families are those of the tributes who just died a while ago, disregarding those who are the community home tributes. Cy, that's what his friends call him-the ones that don't ridicule him for being the son of gravekeepers, finds the art of a coffin fascinating. You learn a lot from a family based on the coffin they buy, and the families are usually nice when they talk. The real standouts are those that belong to tributes, they make them extra special once they transfer the bodies out of the capitol warranted black coffins.

* * *

If the tribute was a victim of a mutt attack, or just recieved a nasty blow to the head, they add a little bit of padding around the head, just a last pillow for those who never got it. His father, the mortician, often stitches these up with miniscule threads, not enough to appear for the final wake, but still large enough to show on the head when looked at closely. Cy's father, an older man with thinning hair had only one job where the family didn't request a patch up on the head. "She looked at her daughter silently, there was a crack on the back of the skull where she fell against the pipes through her death. Acacia looked at me and told me, 'let her hair down. I didn't let her do it enough, it'l cover the scar when we need it.' All I could do was nod and pat her silently on the back. She stayed with Savon as I dressed her up."

* * *

Yeah there are customs they do, gently adorn the body with leaves if they need it, give the body one last middle finger to the cruel earth, immortalize the face in a smile. It's the work they do outside the body that his mother's most proud of. Most of District 7 is evergreen trees but there are a variety of others. Cy and his brother, Joshua, go out to scope the tree colors. Joshua, almost nine years older and strong enough to work on the lumber camps hauling loads and loads of logs, knows where the most beautiful trees are. It's one day in District 7, just after an immense wildfire ravaged lumber camp 7 near the former province of ancient manitoba, when they have to get a large haul. "Pine trees?" a ten year old Cypress asks.

"Yes," Joshua replies. "The lumberjacks don't have much money for the good wood. But mom gave us a list. We can have one special tree, amendoim, for the pair of lumber lovers apparently. Then we need three hickory for some of the younger ones. The rest we have in stock."

Immediately understanding, the young boy moved to a reclusive clearing, hunting for the amendoim for a brillinat day. Elder Joshua sighed at his ougner brother, wondering just what he would do without him, when Cypress called back. "I FOUND A TREE!" he shouted.

He put down the axe alotted to each member of the family from the capitol and ran to Cypress. "Cy. That's not amendoim," he said with a repressed chuckle. "That is mahogany."

* * *

Working in the coffin industry meant exports from District 8, and Cypress usually ran the deliveries when not taking care of the coffins. At 15 years old it's his primary duty when not helping Joshua out at the larger lumber camps. He's a smiling boy despite his job, and almost as muscular as fellow cohorts in school. The package of lining comes over from District 8 on the shipment train, with well wishes to the victors and a new sewing machine for those hobby makers in the District.

He announces the delivery as soon as he walks in, done with his jobs, and heads off to the clothing store. His shoes are just a little too cramped and reaping day is almost around the corner. It's almost always around the corner. The girl working the shoes and register occasionally pokes fun of the ghost boy, as he's known, but she isn't all bad.

They exchange a smile, it turns into a conversation, it turns into a flirt, and it turns into love.

* * *

For the year of the 49th, there's only one coffin on his mind as he races through the slippery rock with the cornucopia behind him. He wants a mahogany coffin, lined with the softest silk, tinted to the slight green of the forest floor. It'll be tall enough for his five foot ten frame. If he goes down with a blow to the face, cracked on the boulder as the lizard mutt chases him, he'll have it patched up, so Marlenne, his girl, won't have to see him in pain. The feast isn't over, but three canons have already rang out. It's the near endgame, no more periods of rest.

It'll be District 7's most prosperous. Two victors in a decade, and from what Cypress knows his partner, Marjorie, is still alive. Her coffin is ash, but that's all he knows about the closed off gruff girl. He hasn't stopped thinking about his coffin since the bloodbath, killing 10 in the process. The final eight, all tributes participating in the feast, a miracle for Cy to get out in the first place.

Just as quickly as it begins, the feast is over. The days have been getting shorter so it takes an hour of rest before the faces swim in the sky. The girl from District 1 is the first in the sky-Cy's kill and the second one dead. Following her is Marjorie, then the boy from District 10 who died first during the feast. The night becomes dark and Cypress huddles under a rock. His first kill, the boy from District 6 during the bloodbath at 21st, calls out to him. Then the girl from District 1 joins in his woes, and Marjorie. He can't make all of them coffins, there isn't enough trees to give them what they deserve. There isn't enough for the boy from District 8 at fifth or the girl from District 2 at second either.

* * *

The family needs to make four special coffins for the next year, the victims of the quarter quell. How fortuitous of District 7 to get their fourth victor just in time to mentor four tributes. Marlenne finds him after the quell, sitting in front of the morgue on a chair, talking with the coffin of Cedar Wexler. He's due to be transferred out, but his family can't do much to cover the burns on his face. Marlenne holds Cypress' hands as Cy begins to cry. "I can't believe I failed you. I know you like red, maroon actually, we'll give you a pillow for it. If only we could pull through," he whimpers.

It's the same routine for years, alternating mentorship with Blight and Sullivan, waiting until just one gets home.

It's a long while before Johanna Mason comes home.

* * *

Ever since leaving his arena, ever since being reaped, ever since being old enough to think about the Hunger games, the one thing on Cypress' mind was his own coffin. "Marlenne," he tells her late at night when the nightmares shock him up. She turns ever so slightly with a dreary smile on her face. "When I die, cremate me. I've had enough with coffins. But put me in an urn, scatter my ashes with the forest. Near the tribute graveyard."

Marlenne doesn't say much, she isn't the vocal one in their marriage, but she loves him and he loves her. It's all that matters, even if she's feistier than he is.

He knows very little that she is a rebel. She and Joshua both, to his surprise. They work undercover as the guise of lumberjacks when not contributing to the morgue. It's a lucid business, and he's kind of pissed when he finds out. Regardless, Cypress becomes a rebel as soon as he finds out. It's just before Hunger Games 67 when a tree crushes the lumber truck Joshua and Marlenne have to use to deliver supplies for the outlying members.

He takes care of Marlenne's coffin personally. Her favorite tree is the maple tree, her favorite linen is the soft wool refined from District 10 sheep, she always wanted carvings on the side of her coffin, like a tree adorned with a tranquil flame and a bird circling just above it. They bury her under a maple tree, in a cemetary reserved for victor families. The only deceased victor relative not buried here is Savon, who'll be moved from the tribute graveyard after a century.

* * *

When Cypress dies four years later, it's basically the beginning of the end for the Districts. The last of the victors from the first decade die just after the third quarter quell, many victors lose their family, and Cypress can't think about his own coffin. The victors from District 7, Blight, Johanna, and Sullivan, the only ones still alive by that point, find his burial wishes on a piece of paper. Sullivan makes the urn, Johanna spreads it, and Blight says the last eulogy. When the 70's end, a tentative peace finally returns, and they get another victor in due time.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I'm sorry if this chapter isn't up to par, but I hoped that I was able to do Cypress some justice before the second quarter quell. Next chapter is also going to be quite the length longer, due to the sheer amount of events that I'd like to cover-including a bit of victor interactions.**

 **With Cypress becoming the last victor to die before Hunger Games 75, he's District 7's fifth victor. Enjoy it for a while, because Johanna won't be here for a while. And I'd also like to apologize for that brief scare with Quarter Quell choices cancellation. It's true those updates will be a bit more sporadic, as ACAH is my main project, but I'll try to get some action going.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	50. The Second Quarter Quell

_Here we are with the first canon character out of many during the 50's. As a big fan of Fernwithy's renditions of this character, I highly suggest you check out their works. The format you're about to see below is inspired by TheReaper94's main format of his Hunger Games project-Year by Year. He has an SYOT going on right now, and I highly recommend you check it out. With all that said, here we have it with Haymitch's Hunger Games. And submit to Illuminating Spirit's SYOT too!_

 _ **The Second Quarter Quell:**_

 _ **Hunger Games 50**_

 _ **Victor Death: 96, Rain**_

"Now Haymitch, as I'm sure you've been told below, the viewing will be a little longer than usual on accord of the large amounts of tributes to go through. Regardless, as our best technicians are still setting things up, tell me, how does being about to see yourself on the big screen make you feel?"

I muse over a choice words before turning with a quick grin and replying, "A million times better knowing that I'm the star when a week ago I was worried about volcanoes." Caesar allows me to sit tight as the screen slowly flickers to light, during which I have time to glance at several of the victors. I find Trusty Compton, one of Tody's friends from District 10, saluting me at the top of her head. There are a couple of nervous victors, like the newest victor from District 7 or the newest from District 9, and there's a haunting image of one of the women holding a swollen belly. Her red hair means she's from District 5. A career from District 2 grips the shoulder of the victor who won before him tensely. The screen finally flickers on after I catch Seeder, one of the few victors I know off of the top of my head, mouthing that it will be okay.

* * *

On the massive screen, there's a number one with a blood splatter. It's crushed by the number 2 with another blood splatter. Then 3, 4, 5, all the way up to 50 before they're blown up with the seal of Panem. The seal lingers as I hear President Snow's voice read aloud the card for the quarter quell. "In recognition to the pronounced fact that twice as many district citizens died compared to all Capitolitans during the dark days, each District must send double the amounts of tribtues."

The screen switches to the reapings, where I finally learn the names of some of my biggest opposition. Vicuña Bowes is the first girl who volunteers, and I recognize the beauty, if ever so distantly as my final opponent in the arena. She's joined by a girl equally as beautiful but not as statuesque, and two boys who pale in her beauty. In District 2, they call a thirteen year old boy who's soon replaced with a massive hulk of a man. Geode Mintus-who, thanks to an inlay at the bottom of the screen, I learn is a victor's child. I can practically hear the victor below me fume, but I tune him out as the names begin to go on and on. In District 3, the boy I told Maysilee was someone to note-Quor Starkler, stumbles out of the 16 year old station larger than the rest. He was one of the last in the arena. District 4 and there is only one volunteer for the boys,Bruce Tirkal, who kind of looks dead for being in a career District while one of his partners, Ulrira Arelis, is a girl that I remember seeing the night before my showdown with Vicuña. I guess I'm going to see how they all die.

District 5 has no tributes of note, but they all have a clever deportment about them. Three of the four District 6 tributes are morphling addicts, and I find that only the 18 year old girl reaped stands the best chance. I let out an audible gasp as I recognize one of the girls from District 7, Valerie Navit, 16 years old, as one of the careers I ended up facing. In the time past, I thought that the careers stuck together even after losing two of their members, but there must have been something else going on. In District 8, I can hear one of the victors on screen scream, emanated below me as a young boy, only 13 years old steps out. The inlet identifies him as Cabot Loomis, son of victoress Weaven Loomis.

In District 9, no one is of note other than the boy I may have noted to Zel that he may be a good ally. There's a scandal in District 10 when a pair of siblings, Tina and Dannel, are reaped from the District. District 11 admittedly looks pitiful, but I know three out of the four of them survived the bloodbath with at least one of them making the top 12.

Then it's District 12. Marcela is really resigned but speaking in that ever so energetic tone that she tried every year. Zel is the first girl called up, and she goes up with tears flowing down her face. Marcela puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder before calling up Maysilee. She has to remove herself from Yvonne Donner and Sagitarria Riker from her while she walks up. Stowe is called, the biggest one out of all of us but still kind of hungry-he barely compares with the 15 year old lumberjack from District 7. Finally, the camera lingers on me, Haymitch Abernathy, as I stop by my mother and brother, telling them that it'll be alright before taking the stage as the 48th tribute to almost certain death.

The names are replayed again, in time to the chariot parade rolling down the city center, while the training scores appear on the background. As expected, most of the careers score from 8-11, a score that none of us in the lower Districts aimed to match during our sessions. Vicuña and Geode get the joint highest of the pack, sharing elevens and making them the leaders. The youngest of the career Districts, 14 year old Mako from District 4, and the 15 year old Atalanta and Excelsior from Districts 2 and 1, still get 8's.

The scores are rather spread out for this year, there are eights from District 9,8, and 7 from whom I assume to be their strongest tributes-and Valerie. Maysilee and I still end up with some of the highest scores, an eight and nine, on par with the careers and the threats from the middle District. Districts 5, 6, and 11 don't make any standouts this year, but the commentary notes that the District 10 Harrison siblings are fortuitous in their scores.

Every tribute has something to say during their interviews but it's often relegated to one sentence. With one exception-me. The entirety of my first interview plays through, but I guess the words that they chose to immortalize me were the very ones Caesar called back to in the beginning of the ceremony. "One hundred percent as stupid as usual," echoes off into the night before it shifts into one of the tributes rising from the pedestals into the meadow. It's a beautiful sight, one of the most stunning arenas as of late, coming off of the roaring mesa, the unpredictable forest, and the surprisingly peaceful desert. It's the most beautiful, but as I and over 40 others would find out, it would be our graveyards.

* * *

The countdown begins and the camera lingers on several shots of the tributes before zooming out again. Even from that angle I see Herman Gage, one of the morphling boys from District 6 shiver as he tries looking around at all of the pretty colors in the arena. I catch a glimpse of Maysilee finding Stowe and Zel in her part of the circle and she tries to shout something to them, but they're focused on the arena. Dannel Harrison tries looking for his sister, who is on the other side of the cornucopia. Finally the camera stops on me hardening my face just as a beautiful butterfly flies along my calf. The gong rings and the bloodbath begins.

During the games I missed out on the majority of the bloodbath, having only a close shave with a thrown knife (though I now find it to be thrown by Mako) before running with three thick backpacks. Other tributes aren't so lucky when the careers get to the bounty and begin their prowl.

The first one down is one of the District 7 girls, with the hatchet she was running to twisted into her stomach by the biggest threat, Vicuna Bowes  
 _48th Place, Juniper Tesidan, D7F, 14 years old. "I miss home, I want to go back." Killed by Vicuna Bowes, D1F_

And thank you scrolling script at the bottom of the screen. The next dead is the morphilng boy the camera lingered on a while ago, Herman Gage of District 6. The other District 1 girl corners him against a rack of spears and throws three knives into his neck, virtually in the same spot.

 _47th Place, Herman Gage, D6M, 15 years old. "It's all so pretty." Killed by Margaret Nimjay, D1F_

The dead looking boy from District 4 finds a District 3 boy trying to run away with a bag over his head. It's over with a quick slash to the stomach. The District 4 boy doesn't even flinch.

 _46th Place, Justin Xiom, D3M, 15 years old. "I mean, one out of forty eight is still a chance." Killed by Bruce Tirkl, D4M_

Geode makes his first kill by throwing his spear into the heart of a District 9 girl trying to flee with a knife.

 _45th Place, Loleen Tapioca, D9F, 14 years old. "It feels nice to breath for once." Killed by Geode Mintus, D2M_

A boy from District 1 kills one of my District partners next. Zel falls down with a quick slash to the throat but her death gurgles are heard through the ampitheatre. She was just a community home kid, far apart from even the seam, but she was a nice girl, and I didn't want to see her die.

 _44th Place, Zel Fowlan, D12F, 14 years old. "I haven't worn shoes in a long time." Killed by Narcissus Krona, D1M_

There's a little bit of a stir down in the audience when the boy from District 8 dies. I look down to see a career holding down a sullen District 8 woman as she tries to leap out of her seat. She looks to be running to one of the victors from the early 20's, and I hear her cohort next to her say, "It's over! Please, settle down." She collapses in tears as Geode Mintus moves to his next victim.

 _43rd Place, Cabot Loomis, D8M, 13 years old. "That's one thing mom and I have in common." Killed by Geode Mintus, D2M_

The only tribute from District 11 to die in the bloodbath runs into a congregating group of smaller careers. She fights valiantly against the three of them, but it's a girl from District 2 who slashes her arm off.

 _42nd Place, Hydrangea Karpin, D11F, 16 years old. "I just-really like wandering." Killed by Atalanta Thession, D2F_

One of the youngest tributes who has been weaving in and out of the middle of the bloodbath meets her end at a long dagger held by Ulrira. The District 4 girl kicks her away and moves out.

 _41st Place, Scatti Xerek, D10F, 12 years old. "Small doesn't mean weak, I don't think." Killed by Ulrira Arelis, D4F_

The only thing that signifies a girl from District 5 dying is her head of red hair flying behind her as her head is knocked back against the cornucopia wall.

 _40th Place, Winnifred Harline, D5F, 16 years old. "It's more than chance that I'm here, Caesar." Killed by Bruce Tirkl, D4M_

A girl tries to flee the bloodbath by running out with a guy she's holding hands with. They stop as they reach the treeline, breathing for a bit. It's a stupid move and the boy knows it. The girl insists that they wait, keep waiting, that she's ever so sorry but she needs to rest. The boy gets fed up and draws a throwing star. He drives it into the girl's neck before she stops.

 _39th Place, Parix Almian, D8F, 17 years old. "To think that I found love in the darkest of places." Killed by Hunson Deredeen D8M 3_

Wait-the boy killed his girlfriend, judging by the heart. I see several members of the audience faint in reaction, and some actually weep, but the victor who tried to lunge herself at another victor still cries gently. It's been only 25 minutes and I'm already starting to lose memory of the names. Maysilee calls to me from the beyond, saying that I have a good memory that she knows Olivia loves, do it for her and me, she says. I sigh and turn back to the screen. The dead looking boy is in fierce combat with Valerie from District 7, and it looks like he's about to overpower her when a boy from District 9-Derek stabs him in the back. He falls to the ground without a sound and Valerie buries an axe in his head.

 _38th Place, Bruce Tirkl, D4M, 17 years old. "I don't say much, and I won't. There's no purpose." Killed by Valerie Nevit, D7F and Derek Usher, D9M._

The two tributes look at each other before running back in the fray. When they pass by Ulrira, they nod in the direction of Bruce's body. Ulrira points out Geode running through the field with Vicuna and they run to her. Later Hunson from 8 replicates the same only sticking with Ulrira as the battlefield wages on. It isn't until now that I realize that the careers have admitted some tributes from the out districts, odd.

Either way, I have a total of one minute of rest before the camera is coated with blood again. A slightly muscled boy falls after taking a knife to the face, followed by an axe blow to the chest. Vicuna looks at her kill and laughs before skipping off.

 _37th Place, Jaguar Denonin, D10M, 15 years old. "One last secret? I'm gay." Killed by Vicuna Bowes, D1F_

Another District 5 girl falls to the ground shortly after Jaguar, the only evidence of her killer being the fact that the smaller boy from District 2 is running to Hunson. The boy from District 2 gives Hunson a kiss and a spear before they split up.

 _36th Place, Dopalla Router, D5F, 13 years old. "Odds are my family can see me at my most energetic." Killed by Xenon Riggert, D2M_

Two tributes from District 6, an older boy and a young girl both addicted to morphling, fall at the same spear. The girl is alive for a brief second longer before Vicuna throws a small ax in her head.

 _35th Place, Insonius Ilamuna, D6M, 18 years old. "I'm kind of cold, can I sit down?" Killed by Xenon Riggert, D2M_

 _34th Place, Luise Vettren, D6F, 12 years old. "I like red." Killed by Vicuna Bowes, D1F_

It surprises me that one of the last deaths belongs to Stowe. He would have been strong enough to leave but I guess District 7 put up a better fight than he thought. District 7 leaves with a knife through his calf before finally fleeing from the dying body of Stowe Cacret

 _33rd Place, Stowe Cacret, D12M, 17 years old. "I mean, I'm stronger than most, so I'll be good." Killed by Oaken Mclen, D7M_

The bloodbath begins to slow down, and Margaret of District 1 runs up to Corazon of District 2. I try to tune out what they're saying to each other and focus on the still fighting pair, but Margaret and Corazon of District 2 never got along during training, and their feud ends with Margaret dying on the ground.

 _32nd Place, Margaret Najimay, D1F, 17 years old. "I'm the perfect package. And I'll deliver." Killed by Corazon Hasslen, D2F._

The last death is caused by a career, Dorsa of District 4, who gets around a final girl after her initial target ran off. She stabs the poor girl through the throat and the bloodbath finishes with 18 dead.

 _31st Place, Nettin Fora, D3F, 12 years old. "I'll be shocking alright." Killed by Dorsa Boyan, D4F._

The bloodbath cools down after an hour of fighting and I'm left to contend with all 18 dead before the end of the day. There's a tracking shot of the arena once more, highlight where the tributes are located. The brother sister team from District 10 camps out near a cave, Maysilee is picking flowers as she runs, the youngest tribute still alive collects water from a stream into a can, a District 9 girl recoils at a vine, a boy from District 5 hides under a tree, panting. At the career camp, Hunson and Xenon are making out-no fucking, as are Geode and Vicuna, but Corazon pulls Hunson away to have him heal Ulrira and her. There are a little bit of conversations going around with Valerie and Derek and Dorsa. I find that the small group of careers talking at the side of the bloodbath is nowhere to be found in the bloodbath, Atalanta, Excelsior and Mako seemingly have fled.

Finally the camera pans on me as I mull over a bush with radiant flowers before turning away in disgust. I remember I haven't found a good point to rest until then, so I just sit on a rock after running for some more and muttering something about home, then the cannons fire. All 18 of them, 18 kids I could have known as friends, 18 victims of circumstance. The scene cuts to the nightly mood when the faces swim in the sky before we all rest.

On day 2, the careers begin to hunt. The camera crew show this in great detail before cutting abruptly to a tribute I assume is their first victim. She's a dark skinned girl, the youngest, possibly from District 11, and she ponders over a pool of water before filling her bottle with it. She's on the move again and stops for a drink. It burns her throat inside out and she falls to the floor screaming in pain.

 _30th Place, Vynnia Lenton, D11F, 12 years old. "Fruit is the best thing after a long day." Killed by Poison Water_

They have about a dozen between them, so they separate in two groups, Vicuna and Geode each leading five others through the meadow. Geode's group of Xenon, Hunson, Dorsa, Narcissus, and Valerie find a victim after walking for only 20 minutes. The boy from District 5 looks like a wrestler and he pins down Xenon before Geode stabs him in the throat and throws him away.

 _29th Place,_ _Larson Brees, D5M, 18 years old. "YOu need a lot to survive." Killed by Geode Mintus, D2M_

There isn't any more hunting going on for a while after Geode and Vicuna return to camp. It's at this point they show me against the squirrels, the little fucktards who took of my earlobe. "It didn't feel like Olive's lips," I mumble. To my embarrassment I find my face on the screen looking down and there are light chuckles between the victors, who might have heard what I've said. Ah well, might as well get comfortable with them.

The laughter dissipates quickly enough and within a minute I see myself almost run into the boy who killed Stowe-not like I knew it at the time. He bends over at a pool of water close to where I'm resting at and I remain out of sight. He bends over to get a drink and sits for thirty minutes. The time is not shown as it was in the arena, but it's fast forwarded to show my insight on the death, making it that I was just observing for a while. Either way, the boy from District 7 dies gasping as his throat is burned from the inside out.

 _28th Place, Oaken Mclen, D7M, 15 years old. "Take care of little Pupper, would you?" Killed by Poison Water_

He is the last death of the day, which is fast-forwarded to reveal that most of us have been on the move-with the exception of the camped out careers who have relocated to the picturesque mountain in the District. Dannel and Tina talk for a while before resting as several mutt-birds camp on a tree high above them, Maysilee gets a bowl from Tody, the rogue careers talk for a while before sleeping under a tree, and they see me still walking.

I suppose my day wasn't as interesting to show, since they cut abruptly away to the District 10 siblings in a tight scuffle against a District 9 tribute, early in the morning. The 9 girl has a scythe on her and charges to younger Dannel, who is only saved when Tina pushes him out of the way and draws a sword. She wields it clumsily, but Tina's kicks are strong enough with her long legs to knock the 9 girl off balance. The girl falls into a pit of flowers as Tina pounces on her, stabbing her repeatedly in the chest. She gets wounded in the process and runs to Dannel. They hug and weep in each other's arms as the 9 girl's cannon fires.

 _27th Place, Yukatel Toba, D9F, 15 years old. "Just in case you need to hear it again, Turner, we are t-h-r-o-u-g-h!" Killed by Tina Harrison, D10F._

There's a brief shot of me moving through a raining part of the arena collecting water in a thermos that Tody sent me during the night. I'm mumbling to myself, trying to remember facts about my family i've left behind in District 12, and they choose now to reveal the final 8 interviews for me. Campbell tells them how smart I am, Olive adds the word 'ass' after every word before telling the Capitol that District 12 is coming home, and mom offers candies to the camera people before I'm off the screen and there's another scream.

Tina Harrison, a little delusional after killing Yukatel, is waiting on a treestump next to a couple of bushes. Dannel has water in a little pouch that he's going to bring her, but there's a cannon fire and Dannel drops everything. He runs to the stump where his sister would be waiting for him, but she's slumped in the bushes, red blotches appearing over her lifeless frame. Dannel tries to wake her up, but her cannon fired, and she's gone.

 _26th Place, Tina Harrison, D10F, 17 years old. "I don't know if I'll die a hero, but I just want to save Dannel at least once." Killed by Poison Flowers_

The group of rogue careers have been hunting for a while, and Atalanta slips away from Mako and Excelsior to get some rainwater pouring down from the sky. A tribute near her makes a noise and she turns to it, before falling forward with a dart in her neck. Dart...that must be the girl Maysilee killed. Sure enough, Maysilee is pillaging Atalanta of what weapons she has and runs away into the forest, silently pleading to Tody to get her through this.

 _25th Place, Atalanta Thession, D2F, 15 years old. "Just to serve, it's an honor." Killed by Maysilee Donner, D12F._

Nothing much happens after, Vicuna is a bit more bloodthirsty because she and her group have let a girl from District 11 slip away, and she's injured because of it. GEode comforts her with a kiss as they settle in for the night.

The careers have been hunting a while-I suppose the camera men have saved us the boredom of them setting up for another hunt. Eager to make up for his being easily pinned down, takes the tribute they found. The group he's with, same as yesterday, finds a meek girl from District 3 who has a couple of knives with her but not much else. SHe's starving, virtually weightless, and she tries to slash her way out of the circling careers. Xenon toys with her, in revenge for being incapable yesterday, and she dies with more scratches on her arms than I have hair. It's a gruesome death.

 _24th Place, Kiki Narima, D3F, 15 years old. "15 year olds have won before, why not now?" Killed by Xenon Riggert, D2M._

Xenon walks back to Hunson and they make out so I turn away-I just don't like couples making out in general, not that Olive and i could have done any worse. She's the last death of the day before the volcano.

It erupts suddenly, and the noise it makes rumbles the entire auditorium. The film shows 23 faces, all in split screen, in various stages of frenzy looking at the mountain. There's a lingering image of me reacting to the eruption by pouring rain water over a cloth I've stripped from the bottom of my shirt and tying it around my mouth to improve breathing as I move inward into the woods. The picturesque mountain sends a steadily flow of lava down its slope while spewing ash from its central cone. The tributes closest to the mountain are the careers, and it's only the steady sprinters who make it down. But the flow also claims several non career tributes-in fact, the first death was thrown into the volcano. The girl wanders out into the flow, notes it's kind of hot, and is kind of nonchalant about the flames before they catch up on her torso and burn her alive. The hovercraft pulls her body out immediately.

 _23rd Place, Flunell Darwick, D6F, 18 years old. "I have so much to live for, just let me fly just once." Killed by lava flow._

The flow catches up to the rogue careers, who look at each other with the greatest look of fear I've seen yet before they are mercifully suffocated by the ash before the flow catches up to them.

 _22nd Place, Excelsior Harding, D1M, 15 years old. "I really like this suit, can I keep it?" Killed by Ash._

 _21st Place, Mako Finnreal, D4M, 14 years old. "It's gonna be fun." Killed by Ash_

Derek Usher, one of the outliers who joined the careers, runs into his last District partner. His partner looks at him, calls him a traitor as they run, before the partner is struck by an incoming fireball.

 _20th Place, Asher Kipper, D9M, 16 years old. "I kind of have anger issues, so…" Killed by fireball._

Derek doesn't survive for much longer when a tree falls onto him and catches on fire. The hovercraft doesn't get him this time. This also eclipses the death of a district 5 boy who made it through the bloodbath on sheer luck.

 _19th Place, Derek Usher, D9M, 16 years old. "I'll do what it takes to survive." Killed by burning tree.  
18th Place, Jack Wallace, D5M, 13 years old. "It's not that much, but it is home." Killed by lava flow._

Dannel and one of the careers from District 2 have been running with each other for a while. They look at each other, too concerned with the wall of lava behind them to fight, and there are tears streaming down Dannel's face. The lava wraps around him first and burns his face off.

 _17th Place, Dannel Harrison, D10M, 13 years old. "Maybe." Killed by lava._

Corazon temporarily finds reprieve by climbing up a rather tall tree. The screen then cuts to the main bulk of careers, still running down the mountain. Vicuna trips up Dorsa as they run, she didn't get along well with Dorsa while training, and runs away oblivious to the screams Dorsa shrieks.

 _16th Place, Dorsa Boyan, D4F, 17 years old. "I kind of want to make it back to my boat. It's so beautiful." Killed by lava._

Corazon begins jumping from tree to tree, trying to avoid the lava. She manages to outlast the lava like this. At least Hunson and Xenon have the opportunity to die in each other's arms before dying. Whether it was love or fight, i will never know with the traitor from District 8.

 _15th Place, Hunson Deredeen, D8M, 17 years old. "So many new opportunities, and to think one of them brought me one step closer to love." Killed by ash suffocation._

 _14th Place, Xenon Riggert, D2M, 16 years old. "Let's be real, we all look good, 'specially those down in District 8." Killed by ash suffocation._

All in all, the remaining 13 tributes are sent into the woods. They show me looking up in the night sky from a camp in the trees, and it was one of the most morbidly beautiful moments in the arena, as I recall vividly. The next day is the only filler day I know of, and the gamemakers send down rain to stagnate the movement of any fires still going on. We're still confined to the woods, and the majority of water sources are still there.

I find a rock. No really, I do, and I begin to talk to it. It's here the Capitol learns of my love for education, love for exploration, and Tody sends down a meal, my first one, with a parachute. It comes with a bag, identical to the one I lost during the volcanic eruption, where I shove the meal in when I finish eating.

The surviving careers are still split up, but Geode, Valerie, and Narcissus join with each other almost immediately. They ran down the mountain together and are nursing each other. I see Geode playing the role I assume his father did (which I'd find out later were correect) as the womanizer of the arena, but still lethal in that regard and he seduces Valerie for the night. Narcissus is left to jerk off on his own-sorry, keep watch. Vicuna gets an axe from a parachute-I realize it's the axe meant for me and I wince, grabbing the spot the axe would have hit my head. Ulrira has taken off her shirt and is mockingly jiggling what she has for the camera. The outer district tributes still alive, one from District 3, one from District 8, two from District 11, and me and Maysilee from District 12. Of the careers, Dorsa from 4, Geode from 2, Narcissus and Vicuna from 1. Valerie from District 7 is also alive with the careers-the last outer tribute to ally with the careers still alive.

Not much occurs on day six. I'm surrounded by fluffy squirrels once more, but they all scamper away as I move to them. They begin to attack Geode's alliance before a dozen of them are killed-and eaten. Maysilee is running from a falling tree and into a relative paradise in paradise. It has a light drizzle, constantly pouring, and Tody sends down a basket that tells her it is safe to eat apples, possibly one of the only edible things hanging from the trees. Vicuna and Ulrira are walking in opposite directions from each other, each not leaving a trace. The boy from District 3 is kind of insane, caressing the tree and nuzzling his head against the bark while letting a butterfly sting his finger. It swells but he uses it as a microphone to sing. The District 8 girl still alive leaves behind a trail of snares wherever she goes.

The peacefulness is interrupted when a tribute from District 11 dies to the poison water.

 _13th place, Nelson Weldspar, D11M, 17 years old. "You know a lot from working in the trees." Killed by poison water._

I have mostly settled into a routine of moving to an appearance of a mysterious hedge that evades me almost everytime I get close to it by day 8. I know all arenas have ends. The maps my dad used to show me, they were old, but they were often littered with tales that it takes well over a month to travel the former United States. Weather Permitting. It was on day eight my main goal became to escape the arena. Of course they don't show this. They just show me getting a knife from a parachute and shifting to another tribute. The day's also routine for most of the other tributes by day 8, besides Maysilee who moves on like me. She leaves her paradise in the general direction of the career camp, the same way I appear to be heading.

Of course, like the day before, a kill has to ruin the peace. Vicuna angrily chops herself from one of the District 8 girl's traps and finds the girl quickly. Vicuna's bleeding on her right calf, but it does little to hinder her as she chops the girl with her hatchet, and again, and again, and again, and again…

 _12th Place, Crinoline Sumus, D8F, 16 years old. "All it takes is one little nick to fall apart." Killed by Vicuna Bowes, D1F_

I know it's coming. After one last filler day, they show me wandering into an ever so familiar part of the forest, it's beauty enhanced by the camera. The careers find me. We step out into a clearing. They still bear the wounds from the squirrel ambush the day before, but they still look particularly lethal. "Hundred Percent Stupider, eh?" Narcissus gloats.

"Buzz off, pretty boy," I fight back. I briefly glean the audience to find that they're on the edge of their seats again. They know what's going to happen as much as I do, not as well but they still know. "So what are we waiting for, your friend to put their clothes on?"

It's another minute of silence before Valerie charges me. She runs in flailing her axe, swinging in a wide arc that forces me to step back into Narcissus' trapping arms. I kick backwards, hitting him in the sweet spot and elbowing him behind me before I parry Valerie's ax out of her hands. Swiftly I run my knife against her throat, hearing her final words as a hastily whispered, "Fuck you."  
 _11th Place, Valerie Nevit, D7F, 16 years old. "Life is like a coin flip, never know what's on the other side." Killed by Haymitch Abernathy, D12M_

Geode chooses now to charge in, knocking me off of my feet and getting on my chest, trying to turn the knife in his favor. He's weak-even with my strength I don't think I would have been able to fend him off had it not been for the squirrels the day before. I swing my knees up and wrap them around his torso, sliding him to the ground and kicking him before being alerted to a shift in the air behind me. With Geode winded I now focus on Narcissus, who has a broken tree branch that snaps pitifully in his arms with one counter of my knife. He's still bigger than me, and tries to knock me onto Geode for the kill. I swing my hand in a wide circle and the knife cuts across his adam's apple.

 _10th Place, Narcissus Kroma, D1M, 17 years old. "The one thing I won't miss back home is everything." Killed by Haymitch Abernathy, D12M_

In the second it takes for Narcissus to fall and his cannon to fire, Geode is up and faces me. He was much more monstrous in real life, massive and deadly, and he gives me quite the hard time-to say the least. I kick him in the shin, punch him in the chest, but apart from a momentary recoil, he doesn't falter and delivers what I dealt to him infinitely more. He knocks me to the ground first and wrestles the knife out of my hands. He chokes me with a headlock and holds the knife over my chest before he slumps backward, clutching at something portruding from his neck.

 _9th Place, Geode Mintus, D2M, 18 years old. "I'll uphold the honor or die trying." Killed by Maysilee Donner, D12F._

I turn to my fallen opponent, figuring out where the instrument must have been thrown from before she walks out. "We'd survive longer if there were two of us," Maysilee says. "Allies?"

It only takes me a minute on screen, but I know it was double that in real life. "Allies," I say back.

For two days there are no deaths due to tribute fights, the Capitol audience is complacent with my battle against the three careers. The camera crew takes a lot of care showing me and Maysilee bonding over a roaring campfire, in a secluded part of the arena. I remember the conversations vividly, even if I do try to tune it out when the Capitol shows them. I get so lost in remembering the conversation that I almost don't notice the last District 11 tribute fall to a poisoned apple.

 _8th Place, Xanad Megal, D11M, 15 years old. "Everything here just tastes so nice." Killed by poison apple_

They show a little more of our conversations with every passing day, overlaying it with our quest to get to the hedge. We finally find it, only to realize it's kind of hard to cut through with our pillaged weapons. As we split a picnic meal Tody sent us, Ulriraand Corazon get into a fight. It's the honorable thing, but I'm significantly tired of watching my games when Dorsa stabs Corazon in the heart.

 _7th Place, Corazon Hasslen, D2F, 17 years old. "To thrive in the arena is my true dream." Killed by Ulrira Arelis, D4F._

Another day passes with another death before Maysilee and I break the barrier. I have completely forgotten about Cedar Wexler from District 7, and it appals me. He was 13 years old, too young to have died. I'm grateful he survived this long, but his death after inhaling the flowers and being stung by butterflies was the grizliest natural death I have seen. He's actually burned with a long scar on the bridge of his nose down to his chin and his eyes are wide and red in death.

 _6th Place, Cedar Wexler, D7M, 13 years old. "I think it's just really cool." Killed by butterflies and flowers_

The finale is nearing when Maysilee and I set about climbing the sheer cliff beyond the hedge. I'm worried for our day-long trek up that the gamemakers may trigger an avalanche, but they didn't (obviously) and they just cut to me at the top of the mountain alone, abandoned by Maysilee due to insanity for escaping. I'm chuckling to myself on the screen, they've cropped out the rock I threw down a while ago that landed back in my hands, before I turn away abruptly. Maysilee screams harshly. I hesitate before I run, killing a pink bird that skewers her in the neck. THey only show me finding her body, not me cradling her, and it's a long time before the scroll appears again, describing her death.

 _5th Place, Maysilee Donner, D12F, 16 years old. "I've got a lot to live to," killed by bird mutt_

Another day passes with two deaths. They take more time in showing how Vicuna lost her eye before killing Ulrira and the 3 boy being the last victim to the fluffy squirrels as they swarm around him after he kills one of them than they do showing me.

 _4th Place, Ulrira Arelis, D4F, 18 years old. "I don't care what you said, Ariel. I'm coming back! And I'll kiss you harder than you have ever kissed me." Killed by Vicuna Bowes._

 _3rd Place, Quor Starkler 16 years old. "To think we created this…" Killed by squirrels_

I don't know what they show of my final battle, only that it has a lot of cutting. There's a lot of jumps between Vicuna and I as we dash up the mountain. They superimpose an image of me holding my hand up and throwing a caught axe before falling to the ground-I guess that's how they play off the stunt with my forcefield.

 _2nd Place, Vicuna Bowes, 18 years old. "I'm just giving my niece someone to talk about when she gets home." Killed by Haymitch Abernathy._

There's ravenous applause from the auditorium as the film ends and Caesar stands up. "Well Haymitch, if you're as any exhausted as I am, and I know you are, I'll turn you over to President Snow for the night. It's the moment you've all been waiting for…" Caesar's final speech is drowned out by the applause of the Capitol, which swells when Snow places the tiara on my head.

* * *

I take it off after a long drink with Tody the next morning. They put us on the trains early this year according to him, as it was an exciting year and we needed our rest. "I've waited so long to do this, I've rehearsed this how many times with Trusty? More than I can count. Haymitch, welcome home," he tells me as he raises his glass of beer.

* * *

I do make it home from the hunger games, but home changes when I arrive. President Snow is the first person to call me when I enter the new Victor's Village house. He explains something about my forcefield and tries to have me with some Capitol biddies the next time I come around. I guess being drunk when talking to the president caused me to tell him to fuck off. I find my family dead the next day, two months after I win. I try to get Olive out of the District, but she's electrocuted by the fence. Tody brings me in for a nice long drink. At the very least I'd find a drinking partner before Tody's death.

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **This is hands down the longest chapter yet. I really wanted to develop 48 characters to the best of my ability, while showing Haymitch to his full potential. Did I pull it off? You tell me.**

 **Next chapter won't be as long, maybe half the length or so?**

 **50 years down, ~100 or so to go. I'd really like to know your thoughts on all 50 victors we've had so far. The next 25 years are going to be dominated with canon victors, so look forward to that**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	51. Venice Sagrada

_**Victor #51:**_

 _ **Name: Venice Sagrada**_

 _ **District: 1**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 051**_

 _ **Death: 123, Nervo**_

It's a quiet day when he talks to me. It's a simple day overall, the flowers are blooming and they just smell so damn lovely with the gentle breeze covering my porch. I slightly turn my head to the right when the floorboards creak, tensing up before recognizing the smile on my boyfriend's face. "Hey Mercury," I say tenderly,holding his hand when he sits down.

He smiles lightly as his ears slightly perk up. "How was your night?" he asks me.

In the half month since winning the hunger games, the nightmares haven't gone away. The towering hotel looms in my imagination every day, transforming from the glimmering jewel in a desert oasis to a nightmarish haunt in the middle of the night, causing three deaths alone due to catching the elevator at an inopportune time. "I'm still falling, but life keeps me grounded. They don't appear in my dreams, just the elevator," I tell Mercury. "I'm going for a walk, if you don't mind."

* * *

He nods compliantly, drawing me in for a hug before he leaves the victor's village. I smile wistfully as he turns the corner off of the main street before heading out the private path to the institution. The Y.E.C has been in the District ever since the first decade, and reached its full expanse after Radiance Mernal's victory three decades ago. I find her validating a set of steel swords with a District 6 rail worker. The worker catches sight of me and tries to make an excuse for going back, but Radiance stops him mid departure. I catch up to my old mentor and the two of them continue their conversation. "We can only send the swords today, which will arrive on the late night train. The replacement handles you asked for are wood, so a shipment from seven ought to be coming rather soon. Oh, before I go, give Leo this love letter," the worker tells Radiance.  
Radiance seemingly rolls her eyes as the letter falls into her hands, but nods compliantly, and bids farewell to the odd District 6 worker. She encourages me to follow her in one of the underused sections of the facility, a wing devoted to training against rockslides and other arena threats. I know Adonis takes a select few of his students here, but today is a devoted rest day for the senior students to practice fornication and pleasure. "Venice," Radiance tells me in a hushed whisper.

I lean in, she's always had a penchant for pronouncing my name as 'Vinez', and today is no exception. "You know how much of a symbol of hope you are to the polishers, right?" she asks. I nod my head silently. Volunteering in vain to save my boyfriend at the time, a good looking, untrained, son of the gardeners, only to see him shoved off a balcony five days before victory, it makes me a symbol.

"It's a message, isn't it?" I ask her in an equally hushed voice. She nods. "If I'm the District One symbol then who else do we have in the Districts for hope?"

Radiance sighs, the long sigh that students have heard frequently since 908's death half a decade or so ago. "Ask Leo," she says simply. "And get to work. The trainees are due to be on wilderness survival with Rhodium, and he wants you to observe. Afterwards, deliver that message to Leopold, keep it from Leif and Daphne." The room becomes a whole bunch brighter, and a dozen or so tributes file in. I jog up to Rhodium and he explains the tasks tributes are to do. While he talks to me I catch Radiance slip out the back door without a word.

The day goes by quickly after that. Usually, Leopold is in the Y.E.C's unconventional weapon wing with a new weapon from ancient Asia each day. There are twelve wings to the Y.E.C, and I pass through the memorial/administration wing to meet him in the unconventional weapon section. Each wall on the sides of the hallway is filled with photos to all deceased tributes. We're the second most fortuitous District, but there are still dozens of names on the wall, just barely under the hundred tribute amount. The tributes from the games we got a victor are in a slightly bigger frame, and more regally decorated than the ones they surround.

Gingerly I open the door to Leopold's office, the one that connects to the unconventional weapons, and find him working on his personal computer, fingers twitching all the while. "Venice," he notes, stretching the e in my name. "Come in."

I still am a little fearful of my fellow victors, but their little quirks in pronunciation help keep me grounded in talking directly to them. At five foot eleven but long-legged, Leopold could pass as a normal elderly District one man, but there's something in his eyes that sets him apart from everyone else. "Leopold, I have a letter for you, from Gerry," I say steadily.

A smile appears and extends to his ears, much like they almost always do. The old man briefly smiles at the photo of his partner from District 9 and the only tribute he's brought home out of the arena. "He was never subtle, was he?"

"I'll say," lowering my voice so that it doesn't travel out of the vents. "How is it that you guys don't get caught after all of these years?"  
"People only catch us when we're making out, not that I mind making out with him," he says with a wry grin.

"And here I thought making out was all you did," I say with a slight chuckle. "You guys have had half a century to stir the pot, and things are just now getting into plan?"

"We've had our fights-

"Like the night Hail died and you were shoving each other?"  
I recieve no response besides him blinking his eyes. "Who told you that?" he asks, confused.

"Radiance said that Burell told him that Mags saw the two of you like that."  
"Mags, if I remember that night she interrupted me and Gerry making out. It was the first time she did that, and she was rushed because of the stress due to dearly departed Hail. We haven't fought since, like physically fought, since the careers were first formed after the first decade. I'll look over his letter, and maybe I'll send him a scandalous picture tomorrow, you should get some rest," he reassures me. "I've mentored girls since winning, since it was only me and Leif. I've seen Daphne and Desire out. I've mentored even more. Girls and boys, I can tell when a tribute is tired, and there's a lot on your mind, no?"

I shake my head and leave the room respectfully. Everyone in District one forgets he's Daphne's mentor. I leave the foreign weapons room to the sound of almost silence, I must have missed passing period. I amble down the hallways into the main office, a dodecagon that has identical copies of our victors from the capitol that cover wall to wall. My photo is embezzled in light amethyst, always my favorite gem, and has the basic information on there

 _Name: Venis Sagrada  
District: 01  
Hunger Games: 051  
Most known for: Volunteering for Jasmia Fuentes, 16 years old. _

" _Catch me if you can motherfucker"_

All victors have inlets like that, our name, our district, our games, our notable facts, and a quote. The District hero, Leopold Mustang, has his photo over the desk, I've memorized his known facts for being the first volunteer in all of Panem and volunteering for his brother. Such was Panem half a century ago. Such was Panem.

* * *

Slowly I enter the door to my house in Victor's village, cautiously closing the door behind me as I sprint inward. I make my way to my basement, where my model lair is. Making sure that the security system is on, I put on my magnifying goggles as I move to my project of the week. The penthouse to my arena was a massive mansion that could fit half of Victor's village's houses, regal yet haunting in its own regard. The elevator took tributes up the center of the room and opened on all sides. There were four of us, the girl from Nine, the girl from Four, the girl from Two, and Me.

It's been pointed out many times that the girls took control that year, no guy making it into the top five. It pangs my chest as I look over the completed fifty four floors of my arena model in the far corner of the basement. The bloodbath was violent, ten tributes including a fellow career from District 4, the lucky ones, before the pair from District three and the girl from District 6 had their spar cut short with the sudden drop of an old elevator, before the District 11 boy got burned by the hot sand in the oasis. All before day four.

The basement door opens, and I turn, eyes wide. "Calm down Venice," Mercury says with a smile. He walks over and gives me a quick hug before pulling out a takeout meal from one of the restaurants in the main town. "Nice model, it's coming along great. It would have been a great hotel to stay in, maybe if they convert it to a hotel in its heyday. Come on, food's ready." I glance at my model, the penthouse finally complete when I blanked out. I grab my meal and eat, thinking about how to fit this life together.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **I know it took a long time to get this chapter out, but I had serious block after Haymitch's chapter. Anyways, this is a look in the day of the life of Venice, District One's latest victor and the first one in the next half century. I've also got quite the plan for the next quarter century, with most of the canon victors. Next chapter, the District Five alcoholic. Also, fanfiction on Woof's Hunger Games, would you like it?  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	52. Jumper Dumrang

_**Victor #52:**_

 _ **Name: Jumper Dumrang**_

 _ **District: 5  
**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 052**_

 _ **Death: 103, Chlore**_

What They Forgot About Jumper Dumrang vs What They Remembered

By Carina Sleet

Jumper Dumrang, 16 years old at time of Victory, was the fourth victor from District 5 in as many decades. He serves as the latest proof that District 5 had finally broken through of its 2 decade long curse due to both tributes killing each other in the early hours of the first Hunger Games. As his fourth victor, he struggled to stand out, but when he did, no one forgot it. Yet the population forgot what he brought initially

 _ **What they Forgot**_

 **He was a skilled baker**

In the years after the Hunger Games 52, he would be found in the bakery closest to Victor's Village, distanced away from his craft, often staring into the wall as his hands ghosted about the cutting board and molded perfectly. Jumper made five dozen batches a week, often with a sigh as he kneaded the dough perfectly.

"I'll take one of Jumper's meals today," an adult would ask in a quiet tone. As a victor, he was respected, and a hero in best lights.

"Free today, as always," one of the bakers would reply. "If only he would make more of them."

 **Jumper Dumrang, hardcore fanboy**

Every year the victors would visit his school, first Mullen, then Barbara, then Vedits. With every visit each victor substituted a lesson. Mullen, every year his lessons would just so happen to align with District relations, always a young Jumper's class. Granted, the lessons were short, they had to be in order to fit in the first half of the day. For the second half of the day the classes would gather for an assembly devoted to the victors.

"Umm, Mr. Jolts, sir?" a young Dumrang asked as he walked up to the victor. At that age, Mullen seemed to be a shadow of who he once was, despite his work training young wrestlers, always sunken and dull eyed with steps he took. "Can I, I have your autograph?"

Mullen doesn't talk much except when needed to, he gets choked up and his mouth is often agape. But the smile was comforting as his frail hands traced across the paper in elegant font. He lightly ruffled Jumper's hair as he moved away, leaving the boy squealing.

He'd go on to collect every victor's signature, even after his hunger games. He never missed one

Even when he locked them away.

 **There was something in him that convinced Tody and Haymitch to get their tributes to ally with him**

Not his partner no, she was frail, according to the two of them, but with Jumper they at least stood a chance with the sponsors and events. At a steady 5 all around for Districts 5 and 12, the agreement was settled. The mentors made the agreement late at night, when Hedwig and Jumper were supposedly asleep. "Why Jumper? The money is all going to be on Hedwig even if she can't make it out," Vedits spitefully said.

"There's something in that boy," Haymitch says. "I've only seen one victor out, but seeing all you old people banter in the Victor's lounge led me to find the one trait that all victors have. Resilience. He already has that, and just might make it out."

No other word was spoken that night, papers were exchanged, contacts were called, and Districts 5 and 12 entered their alliance.

 **Jumper remembers everything that happens in all of District 5's games**

Go ahead, ask him what the average score for all District 5 guys in the Hunger Games were since the first quarter quell. Odds are, he'll answer 5.3785, one ten-thousandth of a place off from the official measure of 5.3786. Ask him where District 5 usually dies placing wise? They're one of the last to die in the bloodbath, at 16th on average.

He knows the first one to die in the bloodbath were the tributes from District 6, when the girl turned on the boy and then got offed by the hatchet wielders. It was a seven person career pack, a bit too effective with only 13 tributes alive by the end of the bloodbath. It was the 6 boy, then the 6 girl, then both from Districts 8 and 11, then the boy from District 9, and the girl from District 3, then the 10 girl, then the boy from 3, and lastly, Hedwig, the five girl.

His vivid memory comes with a downside, obviously,

 **His wife loves him even after what he did**

She's the reason he's off the bandwagon back home. Vanessa Lamar, younger sister to Tawnee and Hedwig Lamar, just a year younger than Jumper. When the nights rang cold in District 5 and storms were on the horizon, she'd always be in the kitchen preparing the best hot cocoa in District 5. They married during the 60th, five months before the first Broach sibling came out of the arena.

No marriage is perfect though, there are fights, luckily never going physical, but they come close. There is a line of holes in the wall that marked every 5 boy to die in the Hunger Games since Jumper. The one that did come out, his hole is just getting bigger and bigger every year that boy complains of being cold. Yet she's always there, with her often soothing drinks. While the capitol knows him as an alcoholic, they don't know that he drinks because he thinks that if he doesn't, he'll forget about Vanessa.

SHe's an amazing bartender, and masseuse at that, ever so willing to give him a drink when he needs it, and he's the willing guinea pig for her new blends. It's not abusive no matter what the press leads the population to believe, but love, just love, and every victor needs a little something. [1]

 _ **What they do Remember**_

 **His best friend was reaped alongside him**

Coincidences happen all too often in the Hunger Games. Ask the surviving Kurkis sibling or the surviving Everickson cousin or the Tomion cousin. Jumper's situation hadn't been seen for almost 50 years, but it has happened before, with the death that spurred Leif Vanas' final rampage into victory.

For the last weeks until the games, all they did was talk, talk, and talk. With all victors present, it was a rather awkward train ride. "They're both so energetic, how old are they?" his friend, Hedwig asked as she played with Vedits' twins.

"Twins, so they are both almost two," Vedits replied warmly. Every victor had to take their kids to the Capitol at least once for the publicity.

"You always had an eye for children, didn't you, Hedy?" Jumper spoke up.

"Y-y-yeah," she stuttered. "I wanted to have some children you know, ever since Tawnee miscarried. Yeah."

 **Jumper was the adaptable**

"Throw me at anything then I'll find a way to get to it," he rang out confidently to Caesar Flickerman on interview night. "I've seen a lot of problems in the library, I can answer many riddles and show proof as to why they work. And I can fix an electrical problem if you have it

"I'll make sure to hire you just in case then, I haven't seen my electrician for a while," Caesar banters. "Come to think of it, he also made off with my jacket, my vase, and the missus!"

 **He's an alcoholic**

Who threw him over the edge? Was it the death of his last ally? The glares that he imagines from his mentor when they pass each other in District 5, ashamed of what he did in the arena? The death of his first tribute, three years after his victory to the skank from District 1?

No one knows, but everyone seems to agree that he likes to use drinks to help get him through. In an arduous transformation the sleek and mindful victor who outlasted 23 tributes and killed 3 himself was a frequent patron of bars, who seemed to be the only beneficiaries for his bright but hopeless tributes. And when they died, the bars were there to bring him up. For whatever the capitol takes away, there is always something to fill it in. [2]

 **He was Karma's messenger after several decades**

It's an odd sense of karma, the one that takes over two decades to take effect, but it did happen. It was day 15 in the arena, three tributes still alive after the cannon fire. Who knew it would come down to him and the boy from District 12-Travers, two of the unluckiest Districts ever?

But the girl, she's still around, probably hunting for them. The District 4 vixen, Cygnet, who probably caused the last cannon fire, she'll be found. And it's a 33% chance of all of them to get out of the Hunger Games. Travers holds his hand out to Jumper as they climb another boulder in the mess of scrubland, to get somewhere, anywhere higher. Jumper slips, and it's almost the end before Travers, the bold 17 year old underdog gets his strength and pulls up his ally. They share a look in their eyes that means that means it can't last longer, but it can wait.

Hedwig was gone in the bloodbath, killed by District 4, the fifth victim of the eleven tribute bloodbath. It was an arduous conversation 6 days later, in the top 10, when Jumper hastily agreed to silence Colette, the 12 girl, as she blubbered blindly in the night, almost giving away their position. He'd had to kill in the top six, alongside Travers, when they ambushed the pair from District 2 as they waited on a campfire in the cornucopia, just waiting for the feast to begin, on day 12.

They find Cygnet prone on the rocks, waiting for the day to go by aimlessly by staring at the sky. She makes no movement until the boys are fifteen feet away. Yet even prone, she makes a kill with pinpoint accuracy, as her remaining knife flies into Travers' forehead. In a moment, everything changes.

The boy everyone thought they knew as kind, caring, compassionate, was almost gone in a heartbeat. From amateur recordings of the live event, it's shaky, yeah, but the sounds are almost indistinguishable as the girl is slammed into the rock, over and over, the first time without her shirt, the second without her pants, the third without her undergarments. The fourth time, there's another body on her, a streak of red hair grunting in pleasure to the screams below.

By the time he finishes, she's almost to death, and it takes a rudimentary knife to make quick work of the once again prone frame, then another second for the cannon to fire, and one more to whisk Jumper Dumrang out of the arena.

 **Conclusion:**

Who is Jumper Dumrang? At 57 years old, he still has a bit of his life ahead of him, and has already exceeded expectations from the Capitol doctors. He has a wife, no kids, but a comforting life for when the going gets tough. Yet a victor is expected to go through their own share of struggles, and Jumper faced it as well as he could have, given the circumstances

 **Sources:**

My Husband the Victor, a biography by Vanessa Lamar Dumrang, Hunger games 070.

NEW VICTOR, NEW RECIPES, NEW DRAMA. Five Frenzy, edition 606, Red Reports

In Depth: All about District 5, edition 4, Bonibella Cilantro

 _TEACHER COMMENTS:_

 _[1] The press does their best to bring out the best in their victors, any notion of them disrespecting their victors will lead to massive investigations if improperly discovered. Please recall that every reporter is set to multiple investigations and interviews when applying, so that all reporters have the best light of Panem when it comes down to it_

 _[2] Once again, Ms. Sleet, recall that the Capitol wants the best for its victors, and they will guide them back to the right path if steered wrong._

 _[3] It was an exemplary paper, nothing less from you, but I would appreciate it if you cited your sources more often, as sources are worth 10% of every paper. 95.5/105_

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **Sorry for the delay on the chapter, but at least I could say that I opened up on 2017 with a bang! Jumper was a difficult character to write for, the one event being the hardest thing to do, and well, I can only hope it was effective. So tell me your thoughts on Jumper, and Carina, we'll be seeing her again for sure**

 **Also, I'm also thinking of making a community for fellow hunger games aficionados, where you can talk to me, and any author that wants to join, tell me what you think**

 **Hopping out,**

 **Hopps**


	53. Polyp 'Skipper, Volga, Victoria' Chelle

_Okay, sorry guys, but this is the second controversy chapter in a row. I am sorry for misrepresenting anything that goes down here if I happen to, but please be respectful-I'm just a teenager._

 _ **Victor #53:**_

 _ **Name: Polyp "Skipper" "Volga" "Victoria" Chelle**_

 _ **District: 4**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 053**_

 _ **Death: 135, Bunny**_

For the most part, becoming a victor is irreversible. With victory comes unforgettably fabulous memories-as the capitol puts it. Yes, Unforgettable. Fabulous, not at all. Ask a victor, and they'll say that no one leaves whole, or even who they were.

To say that Polyp Chelle of District 4 is an exception simply isn't enough. The victor of Hunger Games 53, climbing over nine fabulously made kills, but to say that _she_ made them all, is kind of an exaggeration. Victors come from rough backgrounds, and rough lives, and Polyp had one of the hardest. (Un)luckily, she didn't have to go through them alone.

 **Enter: Skipper, permanently aged 29 years old, male**

At five years old she works with her father and mother on the village's ship. Thanks to Lilo's victory the year prior, the families now can head out in stability. But demand in seafood has gone up, resulting in the villages already large hundred tons of seafood to go up to double that. Lucky thing that the ship can handle the cargo.

Her father is second in command, second officer Manta Chelle, working alongside his wife of 9 years, Basin Chelle. Most of their days are spent on the sea, week after week in the sun, managing all 55 workers as they navigate through the waves. With both of her parents on the ship Polyp must stay with them, against the usual District custom of one parent staying at home with the children while another cares for the wares. Polyp is a lonely child who usually is in their stateroom with her dolls as her parents work with the captain and two other officers for their haul.

Her holed up routine is interrupted one day, by a loud noise that every ship passenger is conditioned to fear. The Alarm. There are two flashes then two buzzes. Two flashes then two buzzes. Two flashes then two buzzes

"Attention all below decks," the captain's voice, a man not much older than her father, rings through the intercom. "Waves are becoming too much for this ship. Doppler projects record heights in the coordinates 29.5 Degrees north and 93.5 degrees west. Heights are expected to reach 45 meters. All hands to the lifeboats."

The door slams open, her mother runs in, grabbing Polyp's escape bag and telling her to take what she can into her jacket, and run to the deck. The girl is doing as she says but the ship is alreadyy beginning to list severely and it isn't hard for Polyp to lose her balance. "POLYP!" her mother screams as she slides to the starboard wall. A book falls on her, Polyp is dazed, but she recognizes her mother's strong arms carrying her and whatever she has in hand while wrapping her in a massive jacket. "Take her!" she vaguely hears her mother say. Then there's a moment when Polyp flies through the air, landing in the open chute of the lifeboat moments before it falls to the tussling sea.

When she comes to, the ship is nowhere in sight, but she isn't alone. There are four other occupants, a tweenage girl, an aged woman, and two teenage boys. She holds onto her backpack as the lifeboat drifts about in the water, waiting for the waves to die down. There's a long wait before the seas finally settle down, when it's finally available to head out, but the aged woman is actually kind of tired, and who wouldn't be. Most of the occupants are understanding. Well, except for one half.

"Are you kidding me? I've spent fourteen years of my life on the sea, viewing waves as far as the eye can see in the middle of the ocean without land in sight," 'Polyp' suddenly says. Deep down, she's confused, definitely confused, but well, it also makes kind of sense. It is fact that Skipper is a seasoned sailor. But who is Skipper?

"You heard me," she says again. Okay, it gets weird again, but she's seeing stuff through a sailor's eyes now, one that's experienced with 14 years as Polyp, or Skipper claims. "The seas are cold now, we can head up you know. I'm heading out, checking the weather. You-" she, or he points out to one of the teenagers. "Keep this thing sturdy as I check it out."

Polyp's mother is the one with 14 years, and her father has 15, what in the name of Snow- Polyp is only 5, how can she have several years of experience? Polyp-or Skipper's head hurts right now but it can't do anything to a District 4 resident who spends their lives on the sea. Land is far away, but it's there, a small village on one of the ruined islands. If they can just get there…

"Turn the ship ten degrees east, then proceed at 15 knots, that should be stable enough," Skipper, as she decides she'll be known, commands to her fellow castaways. "You-" she points to that tweenage girl. "Check for stuff, we need to see if we can treat a concussion."

It takes five more hours since the sinking of the S.S. Swordfish and the five of them finally reach land. It's almost dark, but a shore fisherman and his family spot the refugees, tending to scratches on the sandy beach only guided by the moonlight. The family runs up to them, all out of concern, asking questions faster than a fish flops when fried. "There were two more lifeboats from the S.S. Swordfish," one of the teenagers explains. "We assume that there were 15 others spread through the two of them-our oldest…"

As he continues to blabber the eldest fisherman turns to Polyp. She's cautiously holding her head and is just looking up with the widest eyes. "Sir...where am I? Where are my parents? Where's the Swordfish?"

The man instinctively runs the back of his hand across her forehead, drawing it back when he feels a sudden warmth and calls forward his sister. "Take her to the hospital, she needs to talk." The family takes the rest of the survivors of lifeboat Gamma into their home for several weeks, until the last survivor of the S.S. Swordfish, a malnourished third officer, is found adrift in the ocean. By that point, Polyp and Skipper know that their parents are dead. Yet it doesn't stop Skipper from venturing out into the ocean.

It does stop Polyp.

* * *

 **Enter: Volga, permanently aged 14 years old**

For five years, the only people in Polyp's heads are her and Skipper. They don't quite work out how to share the brain as often as they want to, and Skipper does randomly appear in school, but the doctors say she's normal, or at least would be if they knew just what the fuck Polyp was going through. The old documents diagnose her as schizophrenic, but newer ones say she has something called D.I.D, with the potential to create more...alters, as Skipper is called.

"Are you sure that you were the first?" Skipper asks in the dark of the night.

"O-of course, I remember that we were on that ship," Polyp would feebly reply in her sleep.

"Aye, but that shouldn't matter, I've had 14 years of experience by the time you were five, so I must've been first ya know," he would counter every so often. The orphanage is kinder to Skipper, who can spin a marvelous tale of a day on the ocean (which happened often, but not as exciting as Skipper puts it) better than Polyp can. Skipper only seems to be around for story purposes, at least ones that he remembers.

Of course, a ten year old girl is bound to have interests other than what her male counterpart likes. Much like her few girlfriends, they have a lot of fun gawking at those sexy career boys...and girls for when Skipper is in control. Yet, for that young trainee who also lives in the orphanage, there's just something special about him. He does listen earnestly to Skipper's stories but just spends a lot more of his time with Polyp more. Maybe it's his twinkling eyes that has strength, or the light muscles on his 12 year old frame, or his hearty laughter, but Timor Cebuan is definitely her first crush.

And like all impulsive District 4 girls, she just has to do something about it. She finds that boy walking through the garden occasionally, looking at the Wedelia flowers, simple, but he thinks they're pretty-probably. A plan concocts in her mind, with Skipper respectfully taking a step back for the moment, and she pulls out a pair of scissors.

The next day he's where he usually is with fellow 12 year olds, skipping stones in the pond closest to the orphanage. It's been banned by the orphanage matriach numerous times, but they don't care. Timor breaks away from his friends for a quick moment, grabbing his shoes from a rock, and young Polyp makes her move. "Hey," she says shyly. "I, uhh, I'd like to thank you for listening to me in the orphanage."

"Oh, you're that sailor girl, aren't you?" the tween replies respectfully. "I like your stories, they're pretty good to listen to."

She giggles lightly, blush running to her face, then hands him a boquet of flowers. "I picked these for you, from me and Skipper you know?" She clamps her hand over her mouth abruptly, realizing she's said too much. "Uhh, if you don't like them, you can always put them somewhere else, but I hope you do. Got to go, bye!"

She runs away swiftly, over the sand and pebbles. She doesn't see Timor smiling at the flowers or putting them down, but still, she knows he does. And it's because her intuition tells her that he knows that she keeps doing it. Every week when she can catch him alone it's another bouquet, maybe with Jasmines, or Wedelias again, but he always takes them. Until she gives them to him when he's with a girlfriend...yeah that's when things kind of get sour.

The girl he's walking with, Sumatra Rhone, is tall, curvy, with the wind flowing in her back. "Aye, she be a mighty fine mermaid off the coast," Skipper absentmindedly says.

"Shush, he can't see that in her, can he?" Polyp says to Skipper. He shuts up. Lucky thing that the sailor is so respectful to his owner. It's just a girl, Polyp rationalizes. It won't change what they have, she thinks as she walks up to him, flowers behind his back. She's expecting the usual smile and lighthearted ruffle when Sumatra speaks up.

"Dude," she says with an ugly chortle. "Are you seriously cheating on me with a Shrimp? I haven't even seen her in the Aqueduct, how do you even know her?" Her voice, though angelic, carries the bite of a saw shark with every syllable, punctuated with a laugh akin to an octopus' tentacles. "Oh what the fuck are you going to do next? Marry her?!"

"Hey, uhh, Polyp," Timor adds in a smaller voice. "Thanks for the flowers, but I really can't take them right now you know? You understand?"

Oblivious at the connotation that the words carry, she smiles and nods, already thinking of her next bouquet for the next week. Yet, Sumatra never leaves her mind. Her words etch in her brain continually, echoing endlessly. Most of the time when she sees Timor at the Aqueduct, he's shirtless and working to impress Sumatra through sword play and wrestling, winning every time and acting pompous and so unlike the guy she's crushing on-usually. He still listens to her stories, but Sumatra seems to be Timor's best friend, or someone closer.

But no, Polyp still wants to do this-she still prepares a bouquet of flowers, and fixes her hair when she walks up to Timor. She meets him just as he's about to swim with his friends, while they're stretching on the Aqueduct's beach, his muscles glinting in the sunlight, his hair flattened for his swim, and ruckous laughter all around. She walks up to him meekly, holding her flowers like she normally does, and taps him on his strong shoulder.

"Oh my, who invited you here?" Sumatra exclaims again.

"I thought this was a private beach, free of Shrimp," one of Timor's friends, the one with dark red hair, chortles.

"Timor, is this just a piece of driftwood that washed up?" yet another one insults. This one brings a round of laughter, and the insults continue. Even if she's 10 and he's now 13, poor Polyp is intimidated around the gang of teens, who are all so much bigger and smarter and wiser than she is, as they volley insults around. It's a stressful sight, seeing her crush laugh at her, and she's about to open her mouth when Timor begins to speak directly to her.

"Come on Polyp, I think it's time to stop this now, I've got my own friends and you have your shrimp pod, don't you? It was fun while it lasted, but I think it's time you let these barracuda swim on their own, lest you _prawn_ in on our fun," he says with a sliminess never heard before.

It becomes just a bit too much for her, and she backs away hastily, trying to run from the jeers of the so much more mature teenagers, when she trips and falls on a rock. She grabs the back of her head, and there's fucking blood. Crabcakes...she runs away faster to the infirmary, tears clouding her eyes, and she begins to breathe. Close her eyes, Skipper's there comforting her with his old sailor's charm, and she cries for a good hour.

Then Polyp opens her eyes and speaks. "This changes now," she boldly declares, her voice still trembling. With a harsh slap to her cheek, she recuperates and faces a mirror. "Volga is in control now."

Volga, who has just appeared, makes her way to the Aqueduct. She slams the door open and causes the glass to spider. She trounces up to the secretary, who hangs up his call and turns to face the miscreant. "Sign me up," she hisses. Turning her back to the secretary. "And any mental bullshit you may have me go through, don't bother, I'm Volga, Skipper, and Polyp Chelle all in one. Don't question me."

The man at the desk nods, taken aback by the forceful tone that the apparent ne'er do well has, and sends her into Andromeda's office. She hardly looks up from her paper while rolling over her procedure. It's a height and weight check, followed by a quick interview with the three personalities. "We can work with this," Andromeda mutters to herself. "One last thing, will you require residence here or rather travel here?"

"Residence please, I can't stand to see the faces of those insolent barnacles at the orphanage ever again," Volga says disdainfully.

She turns into a lethal fighter, painfully adept at hand to hand combat and a witch with a double ended spear. When it comes to roles, Volga is the fighter, Skipper is the brains, and Polyp herself is the leader. Volga spends her days flirting and fighting at once, keeping energy from the reliable Polyp and the revealing Skipper. Every day it's all about Volga, and it would be when Polyp Chelle, as Volga, Skipper, and herself, is chosen as a volunteer when she turns 17 years old.

* * *

 **Enter: Victoria, permanently 17 years old**

It's down to the final week, Volga, Skipper, Polyp, and the fellow careers are talking. It's the top 10, and four out the six of them are still alive. No one would have expected Volga to turn on the boy from District 1 at 13th place nor Skipper to draw up the two girl a day later. There's peace, ready to be shattered, but Polyp is at the helm for now, keeping the tensions as low as the gentle fire in front of them. The day's only kill, the boy from District 12, is shimmering in the night before fading. All kills will go to Polyp, and he was kill number four.

Her partner, the 16 year old Carpath, adds more fuel to the dying fire once the anthem disappears into the night. He clutches his glaive expectantly, worried at the night to come. Little does he know, he has every right to. The two boy, Zeke, has been plotting this since his partner died a while ago. With blame placed on the sailor permanently in control for Zeke's partner Zeke makes his move. The knife whizzes over the dwindling flames as Polyp ducks, letting her fall into Volga. It's just in time, because Gemma, the one girl, has finally figured out who the bitch who killed Silver was.

Nimbly Volga bends over as Gemma throws her disc, saving her from a clean beheading, and it lands in Zeke's elbow. The two boy, massive due to alternating work in the mines and training academy, lets out a roar as he plunges a syringe into his thigh. Adrenaline is high for all four careers, but none higher than Zeke, who is a beast that begins to tear apart Carpath as Volga wages a duel against the glamour from one.

Gemma punches her straight in the head, and it's enough to send her staggering backwards, almost in the ashes of the wood already burnt. Volga recovers, but her breath becomes hasty with every block she makes against the incoming blades that dance with sparks in the night, having shadows projected much like a film on the bending silver. With every clank, Zeke is closer and closer to killing Carpath, who gets slit on his shoulders, his legs, and his torso. There are two shouts as Zeke and Gemma both move in for the kill, and only one is successful.

Carpath falls to the ground with a dagger in his forehead, and his killer retreating far into the forest, fed by rightly justified worry of the others turning on him. On the way he runs into the 9 boy, the outlier who rejected the offer to come in the careers in favor for his alliance with the girl from 7 and the boy from 8. Zeke makes quicker work of him and runs further.

Meanwhile, blood still trickles on the campsite from Gemma and Polyp's battle. In a dangerous move, 'Polyp' has caught Gemma's blade, with her own blood sliding down the metal and down on the dirt. She fights through the pain, and kicks Gemma in her stomach, turning her sword unto herself. The glamour girl coughs up blood and takes her dying breath as her feet kick the dying embers. Her last breath signals three cannons. "The bastard killed another," 'Polyp' deduces. She grabs the ditched supplies, but not before looking at the hovercraft pick up the nine boy, and not before passing over Carpath. "This is District 4's battle to win, my good friend," she whispers to his corpse. "I'll make it true, Polyp, Volga, Skipper, and I-Victoria."

It's the moment people call her a victor, when she grabs the sword aimed at her head and turns it on the girl from District 1. Four victors in one body, nine kills, and a victor who is both crazy and rational. The funny thing is, who they crown victor, Polyp Chelle, never made a kill in the arena. It was either Volga or Skipper and to the end all Victoria, who brought them out of the arena, another victory to the weakest career district so far.

* * *

 **Enter: Polyp Chelle, ages naturally**

She returns to Polyp after her hunger games, after her valiant salute to the camera from wicked cheers atop the victor's throne, after the victor's lounge party that resulted in all four of them drunk as a shark near a magnet, and finally home. Her victory meant that there were now 8 victors, four girls and boys, four official ones at least. Skipper, Volga, and Victoria included that's five boys and six girls, offsetting the victor-victoress ratio to 5-6.

For her time in town, the beach, her home, anywhere but the sea and training center, she is Polyp Chelle, the official victoress of Hunger Games 53. On the sea, she Skipper, the hearty sailor who has a mouth that spins a tail out of the natural fabric of words-once you get past his swears. In the training center she is Volga, that crafty bitch who inspires a new generation of sharks and minnows without a care in the world. When mentoring, she is Victoria, the queen of the sponsor floor, an adept assistant to her fellow mentors.

But catch her most of the time outside of the games, she is Polyp Chelle. Polyp Chelle, who is an orphan after the sinking of the S.S. Swordfish, who had her first crush cruelly laugh in her face, who became the victor after three long weeks, and a respected and gentle citizen. She won't talk about the 1 boy or girl, the 2 boy or girl, the 6 boy, the 7 boy, the 9 girl, the 10 girl, or the 12 boy. She'll talk about the weather and the fish and her new talent, interior design.

Now if only her mind was as organized as her home…

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I am sorry if my portrayal of DID is inaccurate, I did the best for a guy whose main experience with it came from media such as Total Drama or Danganronpa… if you have a problem with it, please PM me, don't flame.**

 **Polyp's chapter was one of the hardest to write, I struggled for two weeks over her, so I'd really** _ **really**_ **appreciate reviews telling me how I did.**

 **Next chapter is probably going to be easier. You don't really know the *chaff of it, but this next chapter does include chess, so if incorrect chess strategy is your trigger...I apologize in advance**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	54. Chaff Remick

_**Victor #54:**_

 _ **Name: Chaff Remick**_

 _ **District: 11**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 054**_

 _ **Death: 105, Beacon**_

"I very well should talk to Lumin about the bar. If only we can get more people to back off of the bar then we'd be able to have more conversations," Seeder Firest tiredly says over the bar.

In the four years since my victor, I have established my position firmly at the bar, in the corner where the countertop meets the wall before seguing into beautiful pictures of all fifty four victors. Yes, I threw up on mine a year after my victory, but the copies that they made all meet up to the original's quality, and i'd say exceeds it more often than not. "Relax Seeder, I think your mom instincts are shining through," I guffaw.

"I am old enough to be your mother, and I will act like it if you don't make conversation with someone else BESIDES Tody in the next 15 minutes," she tells me. I roll my eyes again as Seeder leaves me to my drinks for a brief moment. I end up staring at the bottom of a frothy mug as I hesitate on drinking it for a while, just sitting there for a static moment, lamenting the quick deaths of District 12...again. Alimenia, Hawk, Travers, Hydrangea, Jakub, Synthia, and most recently Drafters and Daisy. All gone, Tody and I have failed for the fourth time in a row, and the doctors say that his health is declining. I just hope he doesn't leave me anytime-

I am jolted out of my thoughts by the sudden presence of a victor, the most recent one. The most glaring tell that he is the newest victor is his lack of his left hand. He's kind of fidgety while he takes a seat at the bar with the remains of his left arm almost flailing about when he orders a soft drink. "Try something harder, should keep you rested," I joke aloud.

And of fucking course he hears me. Chaff Remick of District 11, a man born to the harvesters and ox handlers of District 11, who has met toe to toe and doesn't even boast. Somehow, I believe Seeder's description of Legume's tribute while I talk to the very victor. "Legume and Seeder really say that I shouldn't…" he trails off, voice quavering nervously even as he tries to assert himself.

"Momma Seeder and Daddy Legume shouldn't lead your life you know," I speak up. I call the avox bartender and summon a drink that I've had. "It's brewed from District 9 directly and seasoned with rainbow sprinkles, I've named it the happy sedative." Jokingly I point to a menu with the drinks on it, pointing to a picture of said drink with the label "Cupcake Squeeze." "It's pronounced Happy Sedative."  
Chaff manages to smile lightly and begins to laugh before shutting up. "So, is it normal to be, kind of nervous with victors?"

"If you think that you're going to end up with your neck snapped then honestly you're pretty mistaken. You're surprisingly compsed for one of us, but what the fuck do I know? I'm probably drunk as hell."

He laughs again, looking at a checkerboard pattern ingrained at the bar's surface. "Have any hobbies?" He asks quietly.

"Besides wine tasting and dreaming of witty comebacks for years to come? Not really."  
"I play a lot of chess in district 11, I'm pretty good if you ask me. I think it'll be my talent you know? Wanna play for a moment?"  
"You don't happen to need those fancy pieces, I used to play with seeds. Bartender?" The olive skinned Avox comes as soon as he's summoned. With a quick glance of the menu Chaff is able to point out a series of drinks o get us started, all in identical shot glasses. "So 16 of these, four of these, these, and these, then two each of these two," he quickly explains before the avox needs. I notice the bartender coming back with 16 spritzer shots, four shots of vodka, four shots of margaritas, four shots of pina colada, two shots of mojitas, and two shots of white russian. Even with one hand he sets up the board efficiently and starts thinking.

"So how do you play?" I ask, interested.

"The first row of drinks, the spritzers...they are your pawns. Expendable units. They can move up to two spaces forward for their first movement, but then only move forward one. The ones at the edges of the table are rooks-the pina coladas, they can move forward and left to right. I should mention that all pieces cannot jump over each other, with one exception. The knights, the margaritas, they are able to jump over pieces by being able to move two spaces forward and one space sideways in an l form there fore…"

Being the drunkard I am, I tune out most of the rules, but I know that I must capture the king, playing an offensive and defensive game in order to win. "Don't forget, if you lose you drink whatever is left on the field while whoever wins drinks everything captured," Chaff adds quickly.

"Sounds pretty good to me, I guess I move first." He nods in approval before gesturing me to move ahead. I hover a hand over one of the spritzers in the front and move it two spaces forward. "Reality settling in fine for you?"

Contemplatively he moves one of his spritzers forward two spaces before he answers. "Just letting it sink in. I don't think home is ever going to be the same again, really. Five others could be in my place can't they?"

I move one of my pieces forward one space before nodding in approval. Soon my mouth is agape when he moves his queen diagonally to the right and has the ability to capture my sazerac my next move. "Fool's mate… it's never happened with my friends, but I won. You know the conditions," he says quickly.

"Yeah I do. But about your thing, you need to move on from the past. Just find something to get your mind off of things, and keep moving to the future. That's the only way I can put it…"

There's a lull in the conversation as I note him looking about awkwardly while I take shot after shot of drink. He's talking to himself, like most of us do, and then olive's in the back of my head again, chiding me for not talking to this new victor, offering a hand. While I tell her to shut up, i do admit that making friendly with District 11 means future allies for District 12 and potential victors from both of our Districts. "Wanna play again?" I ask aloud.

"Yeah, sure," he replies. I can barely pay attention as he muses over how to move, taking shots out of separate glasses to the side, with the ehadache I'm currently sporting I end up thinking about a bit too much-my arena, Geode, Valerie, Maysilee, Olive… "Haymitch, it's your move."

Quickly I shake my head and grab the rightmost margarita. "That's a valid move, is it?"

"Yep," he says politely, if a little gruff. He really had no room to talk during his hunger Games only five days ago, and he was pretty stoic during his interview two days ago. I move one of my pawns up two spaces in order to free up my rook, or pina colada for moving. His arena, endless hills of grass that rolled forever backwards and forwards, featured no room for talking when there was no wind to mislead the direction of conversations. "Check,"Chaff says abruptly.

Looking down at the chessboard indicates that he has captured one of my knights and opened up for his queen to attack my king. I can either move to capture his rook with my bishop or protect with that very bishop, but put it in the way of the queen. I move to attack the rook, seemingly satisfied. The play exchanges favor a little while longer before he loses both of his rooks and has a bishop and pawn cornering a knight and with my king safely out of reach. He begins to move his pawn forward a space..and it's only then I realize that he's hit the end of the board. "That's a queen for me, thank you very much," he slyly grins.

"Fuck…" I curse aloud. I have to resist throwing all shots off of the playing field in frustration as he moves his queen to capture one of my bishops on patrol for offensive pieces. I move my king upright diagonally as it's the only space to go before he moves his queen to counter it. "FUCK!" I shout, realizing that I lost. "Good game though."

He smiles cheekily before sweeping up the 12 captured pieces and downing them one after the other. I finish my 20 shots quicker than he does and step down from the bar stool. He quickly follows, and I meet him face to face. He's easily six feet, one of the taller victors, and towers over me by a couple of inches, but naturally meek since he's just walked out of the hardest shit in his life. "So what do you do after your drinks?"

"Pass out? Check up on Tody? Check in with Momma Seeder? I don't know, I like that stupid trash that they play on Capitol Radio though, it's more tolerable when drunk," I reply with a slur. "Or maybe read one of the books, like the bad ones by that old broad who used to host that shit...what was her name? Horse Cherry rider?"

"Ponycherry?"

"The name is still stupid, but her erotica is more tolerable when drunk. Do you read often?"

To my surprise he bows his head slightly downward and shakes it ever so subtly. "Spent a lot of time talking with my friends and family. There are quite a bit of us in our housing block, and there's always conversation, and I've never seen a need to read books when there's so much more people to talk to. School doesn't help when there's 54 people per classroom and another 12 adults who still have to get caught up," Chaff says dejectedly. "I don't read really well, never have."

I place a gentle hand on his shoulder and take him to the library on the upper level of the victor's lounge. It's a more peaceful section, without much noise and less of the main bulk of victors up there. I hold out a book for him, a simple one but actually pretty interesting, and hand it to him. "When your'e a victor you can order any of these books here home. They'll send it over for parcel days," I explain kindly. "Takes a lot out of your mind."

Chaff nods slowly and holds onto the book I've handed to him tightly. It's a notebook about exploring distant planets across different terrains facing new threats every novel. Sure it's a cash grab, but at least it's diverse. "My father, he's tried reading books before, he says that you get lost in them, manage to lose everything just to focus on the future. Maybe if i bring her some…"

"Who is she?"

"My sister," he says quickly. "Twin sister, about to be married to one of the farm managers, going to escape the housing block with me. That's every goal of District 11's citizens, escape their housing blocks, Legume, Seeder, and Tscharner are the only ones to have done that by entering the hunger games and actually returning. No one is suicidal enough to enter the games voluntarily, so most of us are stuck in the houses."

I put an arm around him as he sighs wistfully, gazing longingly at his arm. I've been losing my ability to be sober after quite a fair bit of drinks, but I'm able to compose myself so I can actually talk to this guy. "No volunteers from Districts 12 and 11, many in the careers, one or two in 7,8, and 9 each, and maybe one in Districts 3, 5, 6, or 10. We're all doing well though, we must be doing something right if some of us can come home from anywhere."

"You're more composed than the drunkard that Tscharner makes you out to be," he notes.

"I have my moments, but I've never really liked Tscharner. Did you happen to have a favorite victor before the Hunger Games? Mine was Sullivan, we didn't see much of him, but I loved the way he wielded the hatchet."

"I kind of liked Crate, she seemed really rational during her games, and I was a big fan of you."

"Feeling starstruck, aren't you, kid?"

"Used to be, but now I'm comfortable with talking to you as an equal actually," he chuckles. "I hope you don't mind me killing Drafters accidentally."

"It's the games, it's an accident, it was the bloodbath, and it was better than him being killed by the careers. I should thank you for his quick death, he was a good kid though."

"I'm not sure if I should apologize for that four girl or that five boy or that 9 girl or 1 boy… should I?"

"They understand, we try our best not to blame the victor for getting out against our tributes. Besides, 18th, 13th, 10th, 5th and 2nd shouldn't be too bad, should they?"

"I suppose. Hey, if it isn't too personal, can you tell me about your games?"

"Sure," I say without hesitation. "I just need a couple of more drinks, and then I'll be good, that fine?"

"Maybe if I share with you they'll be more tolerable."

 **Hey Guys, hopps here**

 **District 11 is always a District I happen to struggle with, and it's my least favorite District to write about, though I can't say that it's my least favorite District...I don't really have one. But I hope I did Chaff some semblance of justice when it came to his chapter, and that his conversation with Haymitch was interesting**

 **Coming up next, a District 3 victor, and their first female victor, and the only girl before Hunger Games 75, featuring someone that I've wanted to revisit when to came to District 3**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	55. Wiress Casio

_**Victor #55:**_

 _ **Name: Wiress Casio**_

 _ **District: 3**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 15**_

 _ **Games: 055**_

 _ **Death: 113, Katrina**_

The first time Wiress has a nightmare, I'm barely asleep in our house at about 11:00 P.M. She has her room right next to mine and I run in as soon as I hear her screaming. I almost knock down the door in an effort to get to her, realizing that I'm scaring my daughter a little more, but I hold her in my arms before she pushes me away, lying with her girl in the dark of the night. "Mr. Casio, thanks for your help, but-"

"You'll stick with her for the night, won't you?" I complete.

"Yeah, that," she says quietly. "I'll take care of her."

I nod in understanding and let myself out, mindful of the even more fragile state of the most important girl in my world. Now wide awake I call up Beetee, Wiress' mentor for her hunger games. "Mr. Casio," he says, alert. "WHy might you be calling now?"

"You are her mentor, and I know that you're very concerned about her, no?"

"Y-Yes, yes I am. What is it?"

"Just a nightmare, Routa is taking care of her for the night. I've been checking out her hunger games, the files you sent me too, and I don't blame her for having nightmares. Lucky thing she got herself out of her locked room quickly, I'dve hated to see her starve...Beetee?" Faintly I hear snoring on the other end, and a whirring, and a muffled explosion. "I'll leave you to take care of that for now."

Placing the phone back on the rack I take to sitting on the luscious couch and watching the news dribble by in an aimless manner, falling asleep with the knowledge that Routa has my daughter in good hands.

When I wake up however, I find Wiress crying on the floor clutching a letter, Routa nowhere in sight. I rush over to her, hold her gently, slowly sing her her favorite song, one of Panem's few songs that was there before the dark days, and she calms herself down enough to join me in the song. "What can make me feel this way? My girl...My girl…My girl," she finishes, opening her bawling eyes gently, and falling into my hug. "Dad, I need to… Dad, Haymitch's mentor, it's Tody, and he's…"

"What is it Wiress?" I ask quietly.

"Tody Geredine died last night, suicide," Routa says bluntly, holding a tray of coffee and cocoa. I take my coffee without sugar when Routa gives it to me, but slight creamer always gets me up. "All victors are invited to the funeral, as per usual. I don't want to let Wiress go so soon."

"The letter was invited for her, so she should make the decision," I add in a quieter tone. I turn to my daughter and hold her hand as she shivers. "Do you want to go?"

She nods her head before she looks at the letter one more time. "Dad, the funeral isn't until a week from today, and I just want to...you know…" her unfortunate habit of trailing off has been worse since her hunger games, but i know that she wants to go by herself. "So, you and Routa can just… what do you say?"

I turn to look at an adamant Routa who I'm sure is about to deny, so I make sure to speak up before she does. "So long as Beetee is within your sight, I guess you can go. Routa, Beetee knows more about this than the two of us, so that's why I'm fine with her going." Complacent, Routa moves to the stairs, sipping her cup of tea after patting Wiress gently on her head.

"Dad, take me to..I'll just go on...I hope…"

"I can go with you Wiress," Routa gently offers. As her girlfriend I find that Routa is a bit doting, a job that honestly should be for the parents, but Wiress' spark for her matches my first love, and I really don't have much hostility for a girl that can make Wiress happy.

I turn to Wiress and shake my head. "I need to check in on the garden and help Beetee round up your inventions… every day there are more of them, are you sure they can't breed?"

Wires manages to laugh for a while before she nods in understanding. "Can I take...one of them...I should do this on my own but…"

"Take a peacekeeper, and even then stay to the main roads, they understand," i tell Wiress before she leaves. With a quick group hug, she walks out in a significantly brighter mood than before. Running a hand through my thinning hair I turn to the television, turning it on to show coverage on District 12's first victor. The cause of death-suicide by asphyxiation, hung in the rafters. The reporters make a callous joke about him suffocating just like his nephew, who perished in Hunger Games...fifty five...who fell to poisoned gases…

"I don't think District 12 would be happy to see Wiress," Routa says, turning off the television. "Panem knows what they'll do to her."

Wiress has always had her eye on chemistry, how the chemicals transfer electricity yes, but also how chemistry heals. She would have been a nurse had it not been for the Hunger Games. She specialized in gas. Wiress had three victims for her Hunger Games, one of the few victors to win by not killing at least one career, yet two of her victims were legacy tributes, Tody's nephew and one of the Loomis kids. The District 5 girl is a bit out of place when it comes to that.

"I'm going to check on my family, tell Wiress when she manages to come back," she tells me. I nod absentmindedly before pulling up one of the capitol magazines that is delivered to our houses once every month. Of course, the newest victor, Wiress Casio, takes up several pages, with information about her family. Routa and I are her only family besides the victors apparently, nothing is said about the mother who left her husband at the realization that she was a beard…

Eventually I get up and take a walk out in the village. There have only been three houses occupied in District 3 ever since the inception of the hunger games-we are one of the weaker districts in general. Old Burell is held up in his house but I can still see some kids wandering about his yard. It takes me back…

I find Beetee Latiers of Hunger Games 36 wrangling some of his microbots in his yard. I have only him to thank for bringing Wiress out of the Hunger Games. Seeing that he has most of his bots under control, I return to Wiress' house, greeted by one of Wiress' bots. I pat it where the head should be and fall into my usual arm chair, looking at one of the magazines reprinted in commemoration of Wiress' victory.

 _24 Fabulous tributes were voted in for hunger Games 25 in memoriam for the first generation since the rebellion. Maxwell Decostre, Samara Florair, Draco Runrick, Everenne Peak, Elias Figaro-_ Immediately I shut the magazine, looking to the mantle in desperation. I have no idea on what I could have done if Wiress died just like Elias almost a quarter century ago. Voted in just because of his idiotic father, killed by the eventual victor, just as gay as I am…

"Wait…" I hear Routa trill when she returns. "Shar… like Elias' boyfriend for the first quell?"

"Yep, that's my name," I say tiredly. "Shar Casio. How haven't you made the connection?"

"Wiress said her mother left her when she learned you had a boyfriend. Even if it was so long ago in the past. That's why you are so devoted for Wiress?"

"One hundred percent. I see a lot of myself in you, but I see a lot of Elias in her. Seeing her in the games was like seeing him in there once more, if she died, I'd have been alone, again," I chokingly reply. "Even then, I got Wiress back, but even then, she's less of who she was before the Hunger Games. I know we don't get along, but thank you for being with Wiress."

She takes a seat next to me, turning on the television, barely paying attention to what's on the screen with a blank stare. "You're a great father, you know? Her Hunger Games wasn't anything I've ever seen before, and you must have seen a bit in your times."

"She always had a hand in codebreaking, and it's lucky that she made it out of her cell before the rest. I ahven't seen a factory arena like her arena before. They've never been that expansive, for her four weeks I thought she was a goner," I reply.

"One of teh careers actually starved, didn't they? I suppose that they didn't account for that after breaking out. The tributes haven't had to escape a room before the the bloodbath in years prior, have they?" I nod my head no and she continues watching as several more tributes slip out of their temporary prisons. "Five deaths in the bloodbath, and five more deaths due to starvation and dehydration. A maze of vents and passages, no mutts, just a lot of chemicals… Lucky for Wiress I guess," Routa observes.

I don't reply for a while, just stare at the television for quite a while. It's showing the collapse of the careers, the District 2 boy being the sole survivor after his District partner fell at 15th to starvation. The odd thing is, no career made it to the top 6, the lowest placing for any career District yet. The screen cuts to Wiress' first kill, the 10th place survivor, the girl from District 5, suffocating on some poison gases. Then it's the victor's son, who managed 2 kills of his own before dying the same way as the 5 girl. Tody's nephew falls at sixth place, mercifully killed by the collapse of a smokestack before the poisoned gases were released, and all Wiress does for the last 5 days is camp, with the runner up, District 7's boy, clumsily falling off of a factory staircase.

"So much for a lucky games," I mutter to myself. I stand up, hearing the door click and Routa turns off the television before Wiress comes in, trailed by one of the gentleman peacekeepers. He salutes the household before moving off again.

"Dad, I got… it's just a little toy but I think…" Wiress begins to say. She runs upstairs, grabbing wrapping paper from the closet, and slamming the door behind her.

"Oh, Shar," Routa exclaims. "It's almost 11:00, shouldn't you be talking with Beetee?"

"Yep," I reply curtly. "Take care of her if she needs it." With a quick glance behind me I walk out the house and into the neighboring lot. I knock three times on the door, holding a magazine. The bespectacled maninvites me in, trailed by one of his robots that always seems to make a lot of noise. "I trust that you've gotten a letter regarding Tody's death?"

"Yeah," the middle aged victor replies. "Tody was a good guy. Come in, I suppose you want to talk about where your daughter is going?"

I step inside to his dark room, holding my breath before he locks his door tightly, and finally release it once he steps next to me. "First things first, I gave her permission to go with you to the funeral, and you alone. Second, I'm pretty sure she's a rebel just like you."

"Your observations are astonishingly astute," Beetee replies quickly. "But I trust you want in?"

"The Capitol took my boyfriend and my daughter. I only got one of them back, and not as safe as I wanted her to be. I don't care if it takes a century, but there has to be an end to this wretched scheme," I boldly declare.

There's a moment of silence while I gaze down on the second victor of District 3. Being tall in the relatively short District 3 always makes eye contact kind of weird, and Wiress takes after her mother more than me. Still, Beetee nods his head and holds out a hand. As soon as I take it, he says, "Welcome aboard, Mr. Shar Casio. It's about time we had a parent join us."

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I know this chapter might not make the most sense, District 3 is always one of the harder Districts to write about and Wiress is my second favorite canon character, so I hope I did her justice. Anyways, if you've read my now deleted Quarter Quell fanfiction, you may notice the return of one character...Shar Casio...boyfriend to Elias Figaro. Yeah He's kind of old in this time, and I'll revisit Elias when the time comes. Tell me thoughts on this particular chapter if you would, and the next chapter is yet another canon victor...so look forward to her**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	56. Cecelia Turner

_**Victor #56:**_

 _ **Name: Cecelia Turner**_

 _ **District: 8**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 15**_

 _ **Games: 056**_

 _ **Death: 114, Wendell**_

"It's such a pleasure to see you and Audley here today," the cabbie tells mom. "I'm ever honored to serve District 8 as their chauffeur, and I did like your Hunger Games Ms. Turner."

"Thank you sir," Mom says politely. Mom always told me that even many decades after her Hunger Games she was always scared of the capitol, and she likes making friends. "Take us to the Ardent theater."

"The two of you are going to see the musical?"

"Weaven insisted, and it's a way to introduce little Audley to my games."

"Mom, I'm not little! I'm eight years old, that's like a hand and half," I exclaim. She ruffles my hair affectionately and lets me rest on her fluffy blue jacket. "I like musicals, they are very fun to see, and the songs are really nice."

"Audley wants to be a singer when she grows up," mom explains. Their talk turns to boring adult topics like President Snow and factories in District 3. I look out the window, gazing at the advertisements of the Hunger Games. There are still 12 people playing on day 3. The videos are just the 8 girl losing her friend from 7 and the District 5 girl causing the District 6 girl to lose. It's very repetitive, but the lights are pretty next to the tall buildings.

"Here we are Ms. Turner, it was nice to know you, and tell Ms. Loomis that I do say hi. And tell Mr. Dagmar too, and Mr. Baker, I'm the biggest fan of District Eight. I'll sponsor your next tributes next year for sure," the cabbie nicely says.

"Bye Mr Cabbie," I say nicely. Mom drops off a tip and her signature before waving off the driver. "He was a boring man. He was nice too. But boring."

Mom turns her head slightly and sighs before she grabs my hand. We walk lightly into the big theater in front of us and are shown with big lights. I gasp when I see so many Capitol people in nice clothing and beam when I know that my home District managed to make a lot of them. There are a lot of colorful posters of the shows about to show. There's a piano player, a dance show, a movie, and musicals. I let go of Mom and run under the poster of her hunger Games, looking up at the actress and find the costars, the short 12 year old District 9 boy, the mighty careers, and the arena behind her.

"Audley," Mom calls out to me. I run back to see her with a much taller and bigger woman who has her arm around her shoulder. "This is Aunt Lyme, the one who won just after me."

She's a very scary woman who might be ten inches taller than mom and could fit nicely in the peacekeeper suits made in District 8. I hide behind Mom as she laughs with the tall woman. THey look like good friends. "Nice to meet you Audley, Lyme Phoridan," she says while holding a hand out. I look at it scaredly and mom and Aunt Lyme just laugh again.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have some tributes to take care of?"

"Old Cleo's looking out for both of them for now. Mallius just wants me on his first date with Dash, first date jitters, haven't felt them myself for years," she says jokingly.

"Aren't Mallius and Dash guys?" I ask.

"Well, some guys like guys Audley, and some girls happen to like girls. Remember cousin Jacquie? Like her and her girlfriend," Mom explains quietly.

"Ohhh…" I say calmly. Mom turns to Aunt Lyme again when they begin to talk. I get bored. Once again I look at the shadows along the floor in boredom and find that they come from interesting lights high up above. They look like shiny cornucopias with the lightbulbs that shine brightly. There are five light fixtures and I count there being one hundred and five light bulbs on each.

"I'll see you in the longue tomorrow then, it was nice meeting you Audley," Aunt Lyme says calmly. She walks to two boys with hands held weirdly while grabbing some snacks from a big stand to the side of the wall.

"Mom, I thought you said that other victors were bigger and meaner and that's why they won their games."

"Audley I didn't say exactly that, it's just that some victors are mean and some are nice, Lyme is one of my friends when it comes to work," Mom explains. "Let's get you some caramel popcorn, I know you like it."

After we get popcorn we go up the beautiful stairs into what they call the victor's box. I asked Grandma Weaven about the theater we are in and she said that she liked taking Harriet when she was younger here to see the shows. Woof said it was pretty cool too, even if he never went with a child. Mom says that Delly Dicer, our very first victor really liked seeing the shows before she died because of hypothermia. Or was it Y-porthem? Or Ekli?

When we sit down I do notice that we are much higher than the rest of the audience members. It's a very nice view and there are nice light buildings on stage. On the balcony of what they call the victor's box they have tables instead of chairs but most of them are angled to the stage. Aunt Lyme and two guys are eating something but Aunt Lyme is a bit far away and not really talking with the guy with the yellow hair. I guess mom and I have to share this place with only three people but mom said before we left that sometimes ten other victors are in here.

The peacekeepers also keep their distance on the railing and face us and the stage at the same time. There is this woman who stands in red and as still as a statue but it isn't until one of Aunt Lyme's friends tells her to get him and his friend water that I know she is alive. I hide next to mom when the woman passes before I turn to the popcorn and eat. It tastes very good and sweet and juicy. "Mom, is the show starting soon?" I ask.

"Yes Audley, it's starting soon," Mom tells me while she looks at her booklet. I ask her to look at the booklet and she gives it to me just as the lights go down. "Don't read in the dark Audley, I'll take that now."

She takes it from me and tells me to look at the stage. The curtain lifts up heavily and reveals a nice reaping stage. There is a short woman who might be shorter than even me who stands on a box in front of many District 8 people. Mom said that this part of the Hunger Games was always the saddest. The escort begins to play a video for the populace but it's interrupted when a girl in the crowd begins to talk. Mom was 15 years old when she entered and won her games but the voice sounds like mom now.

"District 8, the colorful land of textiles, filled of high factories and close quarters. Everyone knew each other, but no one really knew me, Cecelia Turner," the actor says. "My two brothers and three sisters were somewhere in the crowd today, Roselinen would wait in the 12 year old girls, Jack would be with the 14 year old boys, and both Judy and Arias were in the 18 year old section for each of their genders. They were somewhere in the crowd."

The video ends behind the escort and she draws a paper from a fake box. "For the ladies, may we please have Miss Cecelia Turner on stage with us?"

There are five gasps in the crowd on stage. Many more scream in the audience as the spotlight makes its way to the 15 year old section on the stage and glows on the actress. Mom said she cried while being called but the actor isn't crying, just shaking. And then the soundtrack kicks up. _Me. It's me. The odds of that should have been less for me. Me. It's me. To think that I could have gone free. Me. It's me._ It's a very fun song but I don't think mom happens to like it. The actress sings it as she makes it to the stage and the song ends when a 14 year old boy from a poorer part is called to the stage.

Panem's anthem begins to play but it is the one that they allow only for shows. Then the scene changes and mom has to say goodbye to all of her family. Grandma, Grandpa, Rose, Jack, Judy, Arias, all walk in and they begin to cry. Mom tells me that she cried a lot. Before her only three people made it home and she didn't think that she would be fourth. The actor playing young mom slaps the actor playing Grandpa across the cheek and begins to sing. _I will. I will. CLear your tears my dead Dad I will. Heart is all it takes and beats all odds. I will for sure._ It's another lovely song.

"Mom, did you sing when you were reaped?" I ask her quietly. I know the answer so her shaking her head is not at all a surprise. "I knew it." My popcorn is running out. There's another song but I don't like it as much because the villains begin to sing-the careers and every other tribute besides Mom. Mom tells me that this doesn't really happen fast and they really aren't friends enough to sing when it comes to the players of the game. I know at this point that young Mom is actually Cecelia Turner and don't think of her as mom as the play goes on, just mom's long lost sister.

The tributes are sent into training looking scared or bold. The actor who plays the young District 9 boy walks up to Cecelia just as Cecelia finishes looking at plants. His name is Peyton and he is 12 years old with three older sisters and one younger sister. He asks Cecelia for help and Cecelia decides to help him when they go to the healing station in the center. We also see the District 1, 2, and 4 tributes wrestling with trainers and trying to intimidate each other as they train. The boys all have their shirts off and they look very nice just like Mom said but the girls look even better with their shirts off. Still the District 4 boy has a nice defined cheek and skinny build.

Scores are next and they show that all the careers have over eights as usual with District 2 getting the highest at 10. The other strong tributes in 7 and 9 get scores of about 6. Cecelia gets the highest of the six from 7 8 and 9 by getting a 7. It's time for another song when the interviews begin to show. _Please, have grace, Please save me. I'm a girl, just from eight. My family, they all are poor, my dad is sick, my mom is stressed_

It's not my favorite song. Mom doesn't like it either, she really hasn't liked any of the songs, and she decides to walk around just for a little bit. It is now a villain song when the 24 tributes are sent into the hunger games. District 2's girl kills District 6's boy while jumping and laughing. The boy from District 5 chases the girl from District 3 before the boys from 1 and 2 kill both of them. It isn't until Cecelia finds Peyton and they try to run to the edge before the cornucopia begins to rumble.

It isn't just the cornucopia. Fifty feet away from the center the ground begins to shake. Cecelia and Peyton try their best to hold onto each other while they run from the center. They bump into the girl from District 1 and knock her onto a knife and cause her to bleed. She doesn't get up before the cornucopia lifts way up high. Mom never said that that happened. The Girl from District 1, who got a 9, falls off as the cornucopia makes its way to a higher level maybe a thousand feet in the air. The bloodbath ends and the careers regroup. Cecelia and Peyton try to hide with each other as the careers search for the girl from One and other materials.

They are pulled out by the massive boy from One who wants to kill them. Peyton is crying but Cecelia is looking at him defiantly. The boy from District 2 stops the boy from 1 before he can kill them and explains that they were healing and good at it. The boy from 1 begins to argue with him as Peyton and Cecelia begin to hug each other tightly. They are both hit with blood when District 2 boy slashes the 1 boy across the chest. The 2 boy demands the two to heal him and unfortunately they do. The cannons fire through the arena and detail 7 deaths.

Peyton and Cecelia are allowed to live as long as they are allowed to heal the careers after the hunts. The careers decide to play with Cecelia for a bit and the tributes from District 4 give Cecelia opportunities to kill tributes. Cecelia looks at one of their trapped victims-the boy from District 12 who cries when Cecelia walks up with the only weapon she touched. The light shifts when she stabs the boy in the heart and injects the poison. He dies shortly after and the four tributes carry Cecelia back to camp. It is Cecelia's second kill.

Someone sits next to me just as Peyton dies when the boy from District 3 blows a bomb at the careers and also kills the girl from District 4. The girl and boy from District 2 begin to argue loudly when someone taps me on the shoulder. "Aunt Lyme," I whisper loudly. "Where's mom?"

"She had to go to the tower, Weaven needed her. I'll stay with you for the while and take you home. I'm already babysitting those fuckers over there," she says quietly. Then she winces and curls my hair. "Sorry kiddo, I curse around your mom a lot. Just watch the show."

A bit scared I turn around and see that most of the careers have already killed each other with the boy from District 2 and Cecelia being the only survivors. In one of the most peaceful scenes since the start the boy from 2 and Cecelia begin to talk about how she killed only the boy from One and how he respects Cecelia as a worthier opponent than before. The boy leaves Cecelia alone as she sleeps in the remains of the camp. A scavenging girl from District 5 tries to kill Cecelia in her sleep but she turns the blade on her quickly. She marks Cecelia's fourth, and last kill.

To end the games the Gamemakers drop the cornucopia Island onto a group of tributes. It ends excitingly but Cecelia is only the survivor when she miraculously survives the drop by hiding in the cornucopia. It was a fun Hunger Games with an unpredictable victor. And she returns home to have three children with her childhood crush. I'm one of them. "Lyme, was that a correct Hunger Games?"

She snorts loudly and laughs as she gently wakes up the blond boy who fell asleep on the shorter black haired boy. "No, your mom had to go through a lot more than that, without songs too, admire your mother, she worked hard to get out just like all of us." I ride home with the older people in silence. It was a fun musical but I don't think it was accurate too. I love mom, and I want to be as brave as her, but I didn't learn about her from the musical. She fought hard and I know some of the events now but I still want to understand what she went through. I hope I can learn to be like her too.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **Cecelia Turner, 15 years old at victory, proud mother of 3 kids, finally has her chapter. I know it wasn't what you expected but I hope it was nice, as I struggled a lot with this format. Audley is someone I hope to revisit in the future too, so look forward to that (or don't if you know what happens). Up next, another canon victor**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	57. Lyme Phoridan

_**Victor #57:**_

 _ **Name: Lyme Phoridan**_

 _ **District: 2**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 057**_

 _ **Death: 132, Gerald**_

The Private journals of amateur sleuth, Lyme Phoridan

From Victory to Victory tour 58

~Declassified for Rebel usage~

A Preface:

Every victor is required to have a talent. I guess my talent is sleuthing.I joined the peacekeeper academy to become something of a tough detective, and I would have been a good one had I not been chosen to volunteer. Still, my loyalties to my rebel families would have made me a 'beat cop' as my family called it

 **Date: Five days after Victory, Hunger games 57, victor-Lyme Phoridan**

Nightmares. I have no idea where they come from. Dreams of me leading my ever so obedient careers into trap after trap, never directly laying a hand on any of them. My only career kill, the boy from District 4, Ray, my final opponent, is usually the one killing us. He strikes from behind, wielding a trident. Often times his five victims, the boy from District 1 who he offed at 9th, the girl from District 9 he offed at fifth, the boy from District 10 he got rid of at 3rd, and his two bloodbath kills, the boy from District 3 and the girl from District 5, killed as the first two tributes, are used as his bait.

I've deduced that I dream of him because my conversations with Lumin and Mags say that he lost himself sometime after the bloodbath. He is a classic case of District 4 mania, as most of the trainees call it. The thing about District 4 is that a good portion of our victors come out as insane, or more than they were before. Lilo Suales and Polyp Chelle lost a bit of themselves in the arena, or in Polyp's case more than who she was. And still most non-victors from 4 do lose themselves.

But what do I have to say after that matter? It isn't like the victors are all sane.

 **Date: 3 days after the start of the victory tour, District 10**

Spend day one in District 12, day 2 in district 11, and day 3 in District 10. It's a larger District, the fourth largest in Panem. I find that we in fact spend two days just because there is so much to do. District 10 is a calm town with stronger people, but the population seems to generally hit puberty later in life, might be the meat. The smell of actual bullshit is most common in countrysides. Little did I know that that trait would help me.

Trusty Compton is 10's first victor. She looks at me with disdain, Lumin says that she looks that way to all careers, and is just a recluse with her best friends from Districts 12 and 11. She's a heavy drinker for such a petite woman at four foot 10. At the shortest of the victors, she's also the most angry. Still she brought one girl home, Crate, who is a much nicer yet more timid girl. They're both with me for the first dinner, sitting at the edge of a very long table.

One of the cooks falls ill, a suspected sabotage, while he roasts chicken in front of us. He throws up over the carpet and collapses. The medical assistants on hand claim it was poison. Of course, the crime scene was the kitchen where the meat is marinated and cured. The med assistants say that he was poisoned three hours before his incident. There were five other people in the kitchen, all members of his family. His senile father seemed to be the biggest suspect, with him having spots in his memory, but there was something about his sister. She closed her hands and began sweating as I asked her to describe what happened. She tried to pin some blood, some contaminated blood, but took it out as she accidentally ut it in the wrong area. That's all she had of it before putting it somewhere else according to her. She was shaky, like most of the people I've confronted. The half dozen of my victims always shook in guilt. It was her, no doubt about it, she placed the blood in the wrong seasoning container. She was the assailant.

It came to little to no surprise when the 27 year old turned out to be the culprit, but as it was an accident, she was only burdened with a slap on the wrist. Far better than the whipping she could have recieved, or suspension. One of the guests, a presswoman, took my picture as she was looking on. After exchanging a celebratory drink with her she and I began to talk.

The thing is, she wasnt from District 10. It was subtle but traces of her Capitol accident shone through.

 **Date: 4 days after the start of the Victory tour, District 10**

I met up with her again the next day for a picnic lunch on the victor's ranch. As fast friends (friendships happen quickly in Panem) I ask her about her family life. She and her sister have been alone for as long as they remember, but she remembers a place with much taller buildings, even if they are just faint memories. The sounds of coins clinking against each other, the mechanized spins on many more machines, just so much noise, not as quiet as it is here in District 10.

She tells me her name too, Dioputtridge Obellius, at least that was her name when she came here at 5 years old. It was from her mother, and her name is all she remembers of her. Now she is Valley Quince, a simple girl who is the child of simple parents with a simple family. She always had inklings of being torn away but never fully believed it. I promise to keep in contact with letters but she never has written one. She'll learn though, she promises that.

 **Date: One month and 12 days before Reaping, hunger Games 58**

Nightmares hit me again. Stuck in a courtroom, interrogating my fellow careers. It's not the typical courtroom, a series of 10 stands all arranged in a peculiar circle. Accusations begin to fly out. Someone killed the boy from District 7, our tentative ally at the insistence of District 4. I'm one of the prime suspects, alongside the girl from District 4 and the boy from District 1. Insults fly out, counterproductive pieces of evidence rolling out from all around the circumference. We're armed with guns, each with truths that we use to counter each other. The girl from District 4 claims that the boy from District 7 was killed by the outlier from District 3, the victim of a trap after he walked from the spring we used for water. The boy from District 1 says that the three boy was tied up on a tree so he couldn't have set the trap. The girl from four says that the 7 boy fell into it.

It's wrong. I shout it out loud. The wounds were on his back, and he was found facedown, so he couldn't have fallen. Now all suspicion is on the girl from District 4. She tries to counter, every time saying that she isn't the killer, she couldn't have been, she was talking on the groun with the boy from District 3, but the boy from District 3 was in the trees at the time. We all vote for her as the killer.

It's wrong. She didn't kill the boy from District 7. But she's still punished, and everyone else around me. They're taken to one of the past arenas, Cecelia Turner's Arena, on the cornucopia, bolted to the ground as the Cornucopia falls. They all get hit by wreckage as they fall. I, the true blackened, escape to see another day. I really did kill the boy from District 7 at 14th, he only made one kill during the bloodbath and just whined for the rest of the time when he was there, silenced by my saber. They never found out.

 **Date: 28 days before Reaping, Hunger Games 58**

There are disputes in the training center. With two thousand trainees in the set for life programe alone, and four times that amount in the main programs, scuffles are bound to happen. There are only 200 trainers, and 10 of us are the victors. For enforcement we have 100 peacekeepers Lupus is on the tail end of his life, just like Romulus, but they still help out, though the power trio at this point-Me, Brutus, and Zephyr, restrict them to theoretical lectures, though they can still hold on their own.

We've had murders. No use dodging it, we've had them. Trainee against trainee most of the time. The motives are petty, higher ranking, higher charisma, jealousy, and just general meanness. What I find our trainees fail to realize is that we aren't looking for ruthlessness anymore. It may have stood in the 25th annual hunger games, the first quarter quell, but this isn't the quarter quell anymore.

I find the assailants often times before they can act, and the victims are able to be treated. The victims are often scarred beyond repair, we don't let them in the hunger games for fear of a replication of the late Streak Virous, a nice guy spurred to the end of his wits. You may notice that most of our tributes are relatively sane once they make it out of the Hunger Games and even when they are in the games. The odd thing is, I find that they are the horndogs that get persecuted. I expect nothing less from men who think with their smaller head and women who use their front and back assets to get to the top. They join the masses of peacekeepers, brutal if they're depraved, and usually even worse.

The worst person I've evicted was a young boy, from the side closest to District 10, which is the worst of the lot. We accept the most trainees by virtue of application from there, and the most from scholarship. Most of the time they are refined, Minercal is even from that area, with some trainees expected to bring nobility for several years in the future. But there was one boy, sadistic, and crazy, who could never be touched. Under Brutus, he was still defiant despite him being the toughest. He never brought anyone of us to tears, but he brought his fellow tributes to despair, trying to break limbs on daily basis.

If anything good could be said about him, he was fucking intelligent. Top of the class when it came to Panem's law, punishment, and order. He was a diligent and studious child, but merciless. At 16 years old we deemed him worthy enough to graduate. He was sent to the capitol, and that was the last I saw of Romulus Thread.

 **Date: 7 days in the arena, Hunger Games 58**

I stay at home, Cleopatra and Razer are mentoring for this hunger games, so most of District 2's victors are still here. I spend my days held up in the academy's library when not training, looking over old mysteries. The perfect crime is so painstakingly obvious in most of these, I can find out. Still I return to the training floor in order to keep myself in fighting shape, accompanied by Brutus and Zephyr, our last two victors before me. Even if he doesn't say it, Zephyr is in love. He's in a flirtatious relationship with that one girl who trains for temperature, and is always swooning her with ballads every trainer lunch hour. For a man his age and heart, it's about fucking time, and he's oing to be the best parent there is, better than his own.

Either way, the center continually expands, contractors are part of the typical staff, sometimes they're allies sometimes they are enemies. One man, his home far removed from District 2's town center, is always coughing, always odd, but strong, and we keep him on so long as he doesn't cause trouble. Yet everytime I see him he shakes, looks around nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down, before he gets to work and bolts another screw to the foundation. I catch him once, ask him to explain just why the fuck he is so fucking suspicious, and he spills the beans.

From his accent, he's from the side of District 2 closest to the west waters. It's a coastal region, and we get 10 trainees from there on average per year. We hand out scholarships for 2 children from there. His son was lost in hunger Games 51, one that I recall, a male burned in the kitchen when it got destroyed. He claims he'll destroy the arena since it destroyed his family. It's an irrational claim, every family by this point has lost nearly every person in the Hunger Games, but I feel his pang of guilt, having lost my sister to Polyp Chelle in Hunger Games 53. The anger isn't at District 2. It's at the Capitol, a feeling that I know all too well. I invite him to my family home for dinner, just to talk with my family. We may be a small number, just 5 dozen in the entire District, but we are rebels, and we will end the capitol's tyranny.

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **Lyme is going to be the last canon victor for a couple of games-at least the last named canon victor. We have tributes from District 9 and 10 up next, participants of canon Hunger Games 75. Look forward to them as I come around.**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed my rendition of Lyme, I couldn't see her as bloodthirsty, but she still came across as ruthless, and a methodical killer. Hence her talent being detective. Guess which Visual Novel I used as an inspiration for her nightmare and you get a mention in my podcast. So I hope you enjoyed her, and we'll be back to the named Canonical victors for the new Decade**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	58. Quiltan Mirie

_**Victor #58:**_

 _ **Name: Quiltan Mirie**_

 _ **District: 9**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 058**_

 _ **Death: 126, Yana**_

"There are people outside the fences. They are the fortuitous ones, the ones who escaped the wrath of the capitol, the ones who never gave up hope for a better future. The ones that are serenaded by mockingjays as they run through the meadow or frolic in the streams, there is much beauty in Panem but we can't see them in behind these fences," the book of poetry reads on the first page. "Here you are safe, and here you will be, behind the rows of grain and in your house," Quiltan read to her child.

Like always, her son, the gentle Wheaton, was fast asleep in his luxurious bed. Being a victor did have perks, and if it meant 5 year old Wheaton could live in peace, she'll live through it. The spitting image of his father, Wheaton is who Quiltan worked for, the only one she has left. It is why she goes down her carved mahogany stairs into the breakfast nook, where there is a phone wired to the wall. It's custom for every house in the village to have one for quick communication and they worked during the tornados that occasionally passed over.

She sits on the bar stool, forcing memories of her games out of her mind once more, waiting for the phone to ring. Like they always do, they fall out as she aimlessly drums her fingers. 24th, the girl from District 12. 23rd, the boy from District 3. 22nd, the boy from District 6. 21st, the boy from district 8. 20th, the boy from District 12. 19th, the girl from District 11. 18th, the boy from District 11. The seven bloodbath deaths all disappear from her mind just as the phone rings that annoying tone-panem's anthem concised in five repetitive beats.

"Quiltan Mirie, District 9, how may I help you?" she asks, crisp and clear, hearing only heaving and lustful breaths in response.

"Quiltan? It's me, you know? Ody?" Like all Capitol citizens, Oedipus Shimmer has an ego on him. She can only guess what her first sponsor happens to be doing right now, at the least he's cordial.

It's been a week since they last talked, in that time Quiltan has had about a dozen more clients, so what she recalls about Oedipus is falling out. The girl from District 7 appears in her memory before vanishing and giving a message to her. "Oh, Ody! It's been a while hasn't it? How's your mom?"

"She died three days ago, one last moment with her before the end. I'll see her soon, but I still have you and Arachne to talk to…" she tunes him out as he gushes about Arachne, born from the same cloth and parents, but there's a bond between them. "I've got to go, sorry I didn't get to ask about you but I'm sure it's interesting in District 10."

Quiltan figures herself lucky that Oedipus can't see her smile through the telephone. Still she covers her mouth hastily as she tries to write down what happened in the conversation. Yep...her most profilic sponsor forgot what district she came from. If it's any consolation then he's usually the only call on days like this. The phone rings just as she begins to turn on the television, mercifully on filler images of photogenic arenas of the years past, and Quiltan hastily runs to pick it up.

"Hey Quiltan! It's been a while, I miss you my friend!" the loud voice shouts from the end. She almost slams it downward. She has to tell herself that the man at the other end is just Dart, Pharlax' brother in law. He sounds too much like the boy from District 12-her first kill-for her liking. "We should have lunch tomorrow, if Pharlax can take care of Wheaton then that'd be great."

There's significant ringing in her wars as she shoves Sawyer out of her head again before replying. "CAn you keep it down? Wheaton is asleep you know? And I'd rather talk in person, so lunch time it is."

"Nice talking Quilt! I'll see you then!" he hangs up with a loud slam on the other end of the call that shakes Quilt out of her seat. She really hates her name, but she figures she could have it as bad as the capitollitans when she sees that Drangerous Templesmith, one of the members of the Templesmith media empire, is a live street reporter asking people in the lively night districts of the capitol if they like Alejandro, who is due to enter District 7 in a couple of days. The general consensus? He's alright, nothing like that two girl two years ago but much better than the last male victor from his District. She falls asleep watching the televisions, bored and out of work like the victor she is.

* * *

 _I turn to Ale, my ally from district 7, as we watch the hovercraft take away our opponent. Our Final opponent, the girl from District 2, flies in the sky before disappearing into the flying morgue some hundreds of feet above us. Her canon fires amidst the flames that surround our battlefield. "This is it?" he asks me._

 _In the flames it's terribly hard to speak and the smoke is clouding around us. "I-I don't want to…" I stammer. It's just so long, we've been here for three weeks, and I just want to go home. "Ale...please...I'm sorry…"_

 _His face turns hard, obviously he's been preparing for this for days ever since Catherine died at the feast some four days ago. Something tells me to give up, just let him return home to his sister Ivette and his brother Ferdinand and his mom. He tightens his grip on his axe and I debate on letting him drive it into my chest._

 _Ale goes for my legs, cutting my calf as I jump back. I swipe my scimitar outwards and he falls clutching at his wrist. He gets up momentarily after and tries again, aiming for my torso. The flat of his axe hits my ribs and sends me sprawling outwards before I get up. There's searing pain as the blade of his axe lodges within my gut. I scream aloud as I slide my scimitar down and down on his shoulders, into his head, and into his neck. His cannon fires before mine, meaning that I've won._

" _No...No...no…. NO!" I shout. He was supposed to return home, he was the underdog, my friend, someone I cared for just as much as my siblings. The capitol hovercraft lowers to take him away as they douse the flames around our climactic battle arena before flying. It isn't until the second hovercraft lowers down a ladder and medical teams fly out that I realize… I'm going home._

 _Mom.. Dad… Gran and Gramps… Evelyn and Nolan… they'd be there. A smile breaks from my lips as I realize I'm coming back to the smell of our bakery, our bread, our alcohol._

 _Then it vanishes as I realize that they're going to be living with a victor. Someone who has blood on their hands, who has seen mutts, vine mutts, dead bodies, and lost too many friends to count. How could Ben love me after this? How could they? HOW COULD THEY?!_

* * *

She wakes up with a fright when the dream ends, looking around the room in a hurry. It's winter, so the sun isn't going out yet, but the clock over the front door says it's just 5:00 AM. With hasty breaths she sits up and turns off the television, alerted to a presence in the room. "Mom… are you okay?" Wheaton asks quietly.

Quilt's breath leaves her before she finds her son. His hair is ruffled just like dad's was, the dusty blond hair askew to the side, and his normally smiling face just like Ben's is now with a two raised eyebrows and a slightly gaping jaw that only says worry. Tightly she hugs him, breathing into his hair, almost suffocating him like she did to Ben.

"Wheaton," she murmurs softly.

"Mom. I had a nightmare," he says simply.

"Oh. I had one too. When Gran was alive she used to say that talking about nightmares would help you," Quilt quietly explains. Her son breathes deeply and hugs mom tightly. "Adults have weirder dreams, kids shouldn't have to go through them."

"In school we learned about the quarter quells. How they were not chosen by chance but by the will of the District for the first one, right mom?" he asks uneasily. She nods and tells him to go on. "The second one was two times as many tributes for a total of 48. Mom, you went out of the Hunger Games didn't you?" He asks questions often, as a growing boy should, and she answers solemnly. "Mom i dreamed that they called people like you again. You were fighting against District 2...that scary guy. District 1 was calming him down but..mom you died!… don't go in the Hunger Games again...please…"

The Capitol can't do that...can they? Not in her lifetime at least. She glances at the clock, six thirty, with the sun grazing over the horizon. "Wheaton, the Capitol won't do that. And I'll make it home if that ever happens okay?"

He sniffles in between his tears but looks up at her petite five foot even frame. "Promise?"

"...promise. Moms are strong you know?"

It calms Wheaton enough when Quilt decodes to pus him gently upstairs so that he can catch up on that lost half hour of sleep. Wheaton, her life at this point, knows the word Die at much too young. He knows his mom was in the games, much to prying for his own worth. But he deserves to know. Quiltan looks at the dark screen of the television devoid of life before falling into a cat nap herself.

* * *

" _QUILTAN PUT THAT DOWN!" Evelyn says warily. She backs up against her boyfriend...I never did like that cocky son of a bitch who had the audacity to tease the victors…He was one of the few people I wished would be reaped into a future Hunger Games. I fire the gun at his shoulder. He falls down._

" _WHAT THE FUCK?!" Nolan exclaims as he walks in. They don't understand, they don't understand that I just want them to live in peace, free of burden. They shouldn't live with a victor...they shouldn't live at all being with someone who is prone to blow off at any moment. I fire the gun into his forehead._

 _Evelyn rushes at me, trying to wrestle the gun out of my hand. She's much taller than me so she grabs hold of the gun relatively quickly. I pull the trigger twice and she ends up bleeding just like her boyfriend. I don't want her to live with me so she shouldn't have to, and she won't be punished by the Capitol_

 _I can hear mom and dad through the upstairs so I run at them. I don't want them to live with the burden of me either. It's a quick trip up the stairs and into their room, so I fire the gun at both of them. Mom falls out the window while dad takes the shot. They both end up on the lawn bleeding out. I only have one bullet...I love Ben the most so I use it on him. The people I love shouldn't live with a murderer. Wheaton is too pure for the world. I'm sparing him… his door is locked just like I keep it. My room with Ben isn't. I walk into the master bedroom and fire into his neck._

 _My goal...finished...my family won't have to live with me. The gun...it's purpose is done...I throw it away and call the cleaning avox'. Baby Wheaton won't know._

* * *

Quiltan wakes up when the sun finally hits the windows of her house. She wakes up Wheaton, still sleeping in the same room from four years ago. Ever since that night four years ago...she hasn't touched the gun. Neither has she been in the master bedroom, she did it all to protect her family, and to protect Wheaton. Speaking of...he needs breakfast. The capitol can't touch them now, can they?

 **Hey Guys, hopps here**

 **It's a darker chapter i know, but I'm kind of an insomniac and this is one of my results… It's also one of the more Meta chapters because in this fanon there isn't any Victor Quell until Hunger Games 500, which they'll never reach. So we have Quiltan Mirie, the canon District 9 Female. She's a complicated woman. Saying the least. I hope you like her, because she'll be here for a while I'd say.**

 **Up next another canon victor, unnamed, but canon.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	59. Adin Hoover

_**Victor #59:**_

 _ **Name: Adin Hoover**_

 _ **District: 10**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 059**_

 _ **Death: 128, Jolt**_

To call Adin a simple boy is accurate, but that isn't all there is to him. Adin is a victor, trite and true, he's been through what most of District 10 can't, but he's a backwoods boy true and true. Down by the cows on the endless seas of dirt and animals and under the blazing sun is where he learned to live life, his blood, his brains, and his culture. District 10 is his home, his school, his life, and to say his life is different without living in District 10 is an understatement.

To say that Adin wonders about animals is an understatement. The strongest contenders from District 10 often come from the ranches on the borders of the District with the weaker ones coming from the factories closer to the center. He lives on one of the villages closer to District 11 than to the center of town, a small community of 50 people or so. They specialize in wrangling cattle. Every three months special trucks come around and take like 100 strong cows for the center oof District 10.

"Mom," an 8 year old boy would ask. "Why do the cows get to ride on trucks and I don't?"

Never one to hide the truth, just color it, old Heidi Hoover looks at her son and says, "These cows have a job to do, and we're training them to do it. The job only comes once in a lifetime, and if they are nice, they get a raise and that money goes back to this village you see?"

"Do they need trucks to do the jobs?"

"No, they need trucks to go to their jobs. We dont see them ever again, but they do their jobs well."

"Why can't I do their jobs? I want to go in a truck."

Heidi Hoover sighs, there is going to be a time where she needs to take him, Burnett, and Felicity down to town in the middle of summer. With any luck they can make the trip about a dozen and a half times with all people on the trip returning home. "The trucks you are allowed to go on only come twice a year when you are old enough. And if you are lucky you get to ride it twice a year."

He opens his mouth slightly, about to ask anoter question, but then mom says he has to go to their one room village school. And that Burnett and Felicity are going along with him. He nods his head in understanding, there'll be more time for questions, and Adin just can't ask enough

* * *

To say that Adin is strong won't be enough. The boy doesn't do well with facts but in his one room schoolhouse his friends think that he is just as strong as his older brother if not stronger. The kids enjoy their outdoor clases under the trees and on the rolling hills that let them run after class is over. "Look what I can do!" his best friend, Deena- a girl but who cares- says as she does a flip on the soft green grass.

Everyone else in their school group claps at her skill, she blushes. "I can climb up that tree!"Adin's other friend, Davis, says proudly. He runs up to the trunk and jumps onto a branch. Then Davis looks around with wide eyes and looks around to jump to another branch. He does it one more time before looking down. Then he freezes. "Help…" he meekly mutters.

Adin is not just strong, but speedy, even his siblings note it. He runs under the tree with his arms outstretched to where Davis is falling. It's a miracle all thanks to Adin's surprising 12 year old strength that Davis is caught inches from the ground. "That must have been 10 feet, you okay Davis?"

"Thanks Adin, I didn't think someone would catch me." There's applause around as Adin gently puts down Davis, who appears to be all fine. It's just a normal day in District 10, but normal days can have excitement.

* * *

To call Adin homophobic is an overstatement, if that exists. He'll tolerate gay people. That's his extent, he just doesn't like seeing them outside in public doing those closed door things. There actually is a reason, a stupid reason, he figures, but why can't he get past that? Even years after, decades after, when he's a victor and trying to tolerate old Leo and Gerry still in a relationship-then the new couple years later-he can't get past it.

He blames his dad. That's the only way he can justify it. At 13 years old, when Burnett was 14 and Felicity was 15, Mom sat him down at their rudimentary 3 person table as they ate his favorite, bacon and tesserae toast. "When you were 2 years old," she begann in that raspy but nice voice. "I saw my brother, he went into my house. I knew that your unlce Tim was gay for years even if he never told us. Dad was never the most faithful person in our youth bbut I thought he was over it. Uncle Tim and your father, when I walked in, were in our bedroom, almost in undress. They left for another village the next week." Adin sighs as Mom wipes a tear from her eyes. "I never saw them again," she adds in a final statement.

Adin clutches his mom's hands before saying, "I won't leave you."

A small smile breaks from his petite mother's lips before she ruffles his head. "I hope not, keep those you know in your heart, and you'll make it through. School is starting soon, get off and I'll see you then."

He never could quite look at Davis' brother the same again.

* * *

To call Adin Hoover determined is one hundred percent accurate. One thing that all victors share is a sense of determination, an unwillingness to give up, and Adin 100% has that quality. From the moment he's called, tears spring to his eyes, but he counts to 10 with his eyes closed and walks to the stage unflinching in a strength much unlike the younger partner before him. It's his determination to return to a struggling Mom who can't spend an hour without crying, Burnett who is growing strong but needs the tesserae, and Felicty and her husband to be that causes him to sadly turn down a sobbing 13 year old who wants to be his partner.

He explains it during his interview. "My mother taught me to move on from whatever hardships hit my way. She told me to make it to the end, and consarn'it I may have to do it alone, but myself is all i need," he explains to a chuckling audience paying attention only due to the 7 he got and the backwoods charm he has. Caesar turns the conversation to his homestead that he knows just so well about, describing the little pond, the little crevices that are in the road when the animals walk along the road. But he's nothing noteworthy and soon the radiant District 11 girl is up.

It's funny that the greatest outlier competition ends up being the District 11 girl. He meets with her in the finale, with the District 1 girl on a ledge that empties out into the bottomless pit below. The three biggest threats, the backwoods rancher, the dynamite beauty of District 1, and the simple harvester from District 11. A combined 12 kills between all of them and 100% the girl from District one is the crowd favorite.

They stand in an uneasy triangle, holding each of their weapons tightly, waiting for the other to make a move. They take an uneasy step towards each other, vaguely aware of their battlefield being slowly whittled down to an almost insuitable battleground. Adin manages to kill the girl from District 11, and it's only because the girl gets sent the wrong way when the District 1 vixen sends her spiraling into his blade. The one girl rears up and prepares to charge, but falls into the boiling and tumultuous water.

Adin Hoover shivers on the ground as the girl's scream is heard before finally silencing. Then the trumpets sound, and he's the victor of hunger Games 59.

* * *

If Adin Hoover is better known as one of the underrated victors, then that's fine with him. He's a respected victor, but District 10 isn't the most noteworthy of Districts, and he escapes capitol eye alongside Crate and Trusty, the fellow victors as District 10's very first boy, making District 10 the last District to get a Male victor.

Trusty Compton sees nothing of herself in Adin Hoover. The shortest 10 victor and the tallest, the first and the latest, the noble and the torturer, that's what they are compared to each other. Still, she was his mentor, and could relate to him much better than Crate, who would hole up in Victor's Ranch with her myriad of children. They're both birds of a feather more than they think.

Crate notes their observations dutifully from her home for about two months after Adin's hunger games. Trusty will always be there with a drink on her porch and Adin will often ride a horse up to her house, just for the hell of it. Still, she finds that Trusty and Adin have a unique bond that is only compounded with Trusty's death three days after the last month before the victory tour.

Adin says his talent his cleaning, and he's able to care for her house the week before the funeral. Crate walks in with definite surprise at the lack of alcohol stench that plagued her house decades after her victory. Ironic considering that her death was liver failure. Her house is immaculate enough for the horde of victors that arrive the week after Trusty's death, and with Adin's approval they come up with a new custom for District 10 barbecues.

They release her favorite animal, a pig named Patty, and any of its descendants, into the vast sunset into the wilderness. Only Adin knows why she called it Patty, and he won't spill. As a cleaner, it'd be very odd if he spills. Trusty's funeral is a quick one and the burial that immediately follows isn't that noteworthy either, just put her in a quaint plot of land that'll soon be forgotten.

Adin cleans up the house much more vigorously after, and his cleaning then extends to the animals to produced the shiniest coats of fur that there is. They do kill one of the cows to feed all victors who show up and it's the best meat they've ever had-best looking meat too.

* * *

To describe Adin Hoover as a victor will one hundred percent be accurate. Simply put a victor is someone who survived the hunger Games by making a couple of kills. But there are a bit more, determination, uniqueness, every little bit of strength that got a tribute out, it's all different for any victor, and Adin is just as different as every victor before him.

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Sorry that this chapter isn't up to snuff, I had an exhausting week and coming after Quiltan's chapter I know that Adin isn't going to be up to it. On the bright side we have some canon victors coming in the next decade including but not limited to the best character in the hunger games franchise, someone with quite the bite, and two underestimated outer districts. So look forward that.**

 **Also, when it comes to Roads to Home, I really want to know how it has been progressing, as it's very hard to get a story written without any input. So please leave a review**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	60. Gloss Broach

_**Victor #60:**_

 _ **Name: Gloss Broach**_

 _ **District: 1**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 060**_

 _ **Death: Ramora, 129**_

Ten years after his sister's victory, and she was the last victor from District one so far. Gloss couldn't have it any other way though, fighting tooth and nail to get out for his baby sis, fighting out of the arena just to let her see another day, it's all that he wanted, and a little bit extra.

There's a reason why he doesn't feel bad about slicing nine tributes in the luxurious cliffside cul-de-sac. If it got him and Cash away from their abusive father, their bitch of a mother, the hustle and bustle of the typical life, he'd be alright with that. He mulls over these thoughts just as he begins to pack. Cashmere and him, the dynamic sibling duo, never before seen.

Every victor mentoring for the Hunger Games is allowed to bring one suitcase of valuables from home, just not too much in the wardrobe department-District sponsors usually cover that if they're in the fashion industry. Gloss makes sure to pack for nights of success, a bag of condoms sits in the zippered pocket; he never knows when a floozy just wants to get with him. It'll mean the difference between life and death for the tributes of this year.

Dash Candela and Twinkle Hartfire, they're the most promising tributes of the decade, and one of them will come out of the arena. "I'm sure of it," Gloss says aloud with as much conviction as Adonis when the older victor selected him. And speaking of the poor mentor, Gloss is grateful that he's been given more of a reprieve. There's only so many ways a man pushing 50 could have been used.

Absentmindedly Gloss grabs another set of clothes, the typical District 1 hair gel so common of victors, a bit of light reading, and a number from his favorite customer. He'll be sure to meet up with her immediately after arrival into the Capitol, she's the richest of all the usual sponsors. Speaking of...he needs her memoir, the thing that she usually expects from him, her heirloom-the amethyst. He packs it right next to the condoms as a reminder of what he needs.

There's a stir from his bed, and his girlfriend of three years wakes up aimlessly. "Gloss?" Jasmine asks. "what-What time is it?"

With a customary glance to the clock he and Cashmere made, he immediately says that it's six-thirty before smiling at her. There are few people that Gloss believes can forgive a psychopath and he's glad that Jasmine is one of the lucky few. "I, I have to go to the capitol at 12:00 you know? I'm packing for the trip."

She nods in understanding, possessing elder brother Johann's look just so, and sits restless in bed. "Are you going to have to do it with them again?" She spits the word 'them' with much more venom than is to be expected from a District 1 citizen.

Gloss sighs in contempt. It's a common fact in District 1 that the victors are forced to have sex, which is why even when the Y.E.C fails to produce a volunteer, the tributes are usually cute and helpless or somewhat strong and capable. It's the price for all naturally good looking tributes in the arena, surely. "I do it for you. They mean nothing to me. I've told you millions of times by now. And I still mean it."

The smile that comes from her pursed lips is as genuine as his claims. He really loves her, that much is sure. She slides off of their bed and bends down to help him pack. She doesn't know about the twisted things that those Capitolitans-those vultures- force him to do with Cash. He still hates himself for it, the same way he hates himself for letting his kid sister volunteer the year after him, at the expense of Johann, but it protects him, Cashmere, Jasmine, and Jasmine's other siblings.

"Well, your suitcase is just about full, I guess this is the last I will see of you until the reaping ceremony, I trust that you'll be waking up Cashmere now?"

"You know me so well," he tenderly says, kissing her on her forehead. "Take care of the homestead won't you? I have a feeling we'll have a victor this year, but not after a really long fight."

Compliant she grabs the bags and lugs them downstairs behind her boyfriend as he opens the door to the elite neighborhood of District 1's Victor's Village. "I'll see you around," she says while reclining on the doorframe. He waves back wholeheartedly before turning the corner to his sister's house.

He has to navigate the maze of books and papers and pencils even as he opens the front door. He sees the most of Cashmere, that much is true, but even he can't fathom just what she tries to throw herself into when the Capitol trips always comes around. "Cash?"

"GLOSS!" she shouts from behind some books. "I swear I'm ready, just let me close this one...and there we go." She stepped out from her hovel, the one Gloss always dubbed Ancient Asian Alcove, and into the light. Her hair was slightly out of place and her blouse was lopsided, but she still carried that insane look of energy in her eyes that brought her out of Hunger Games 61.

"Where's your…" Gloss started to ask before he walked forward, over his sister's bag. "I swear the cleaning avox' need to visit your house more often. Oh, come on Cashmere, let's just comb your hair for now, the stylists will freak if they realize what you look like."

Her brows furrow and her lips curls before she nods. Gloss knows that his sister is just as tired as he is about the Capitol, daresay he thinks that she might be a rebel, but there aren't rebels in District 1, are there? "Fine, I'll be out for the justice building in a moment. I'm not just your little sister anymore."

"I mean-" he begins to say. "Understood. Will you check in on the trainees?"

"Of course, I want a victor just as much as you do. District 1's in a slump, we're about to be taken over by District 4, not bad people, but do we need more Crestas amok? Go on Gloss, check in at the reaping stage if that's what you came to me for."

He waves back at her as she returns to her work, tidying up her house and beginning to lock up. Nowhere else to go, Gloss took a left as he exited out Victor's Village, finding himself in the prestigious Victor's Park. All 10 statues facing the intricately made crown bush in the center and bordered by trees on any side, with a particularly massive pair of oaks guarding the entrance. It's different in every District, and doesn't exist in District 12 based off of what Gloss knows.

He rests under one of the trees near the entrance, his favorite one. He's always had an affinity for trees. He doesn't know why but Cashmere says she does. He relaxes with his hands behind his head and reclines against the mighty trunk. It only takes him a couple of blinks in the hypnotically beautiful day before Gloss flashes back.

Nine kills, a little less than what District 1 usually brings in with Victor terms, but still, more than a third of the competition. His partner, the 2 girl, the 5 tributes, the six boy, the seven girl, the 10 tributes, and the 12 girl all seem to enter the park behind him. They hold a jump rope and a discus between all of them. He recalls the five girl vividly, a streak of brown hair against her typical red braid, her light build showing something of malnourishment, but her arms calloused and cut with streaks, a victim of self harm. Gloss could hardly feel bad about killing her during the bloodbath.

He placed first, his partner placed fifth, the five girl placed 22nd, and the looker from District 7 died at 12th. Yeah, District 7 and him were an illicit thing, not like the 4 girl and her District 9 ally. It wasn't until that the girl threatened to reveal herself when Gloss finally moved in on his threats, slitting her throat in one of the luscious houses as his final kiss left her lips.

Of course the finale. The 10 boy falling at 3rd to Gloss, and the 2 girl falling shortly after, both of them belonging to Gloss. He doesn't feel remorse after their deaths. It was just a game that they happened to lose. A game he happened to win. Speaking of, he'd better get going, the reaping is starting soon, and he needs to find his tributes

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here  
Not that good of a chapter, Gloss hasn't been my favorite of Characters, he's my least favorite canon victor-THAT'S WHAT HE DESERVES FOR KILLING WIRESS THE SECOND BEST CHARACTER!  
Sorry for that, but I hope I was able to convey him in a good way, and leave a review with your thoughts  
Hopping out  
Hopps**


	61. Cashmere Broach

_**Victor #61:**_

 _ **Name: Cashmere Broach**_

 _ **District: 1**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 061**_

 _ **Death: Terrex, 130**_

 **As I reach my 18th birthday, I now realize that my family has always been there for me. Thanks to Gloss I now have several stories from my years.**

 **Year Two:**

I found that Gloss would be invited to more and more playdates every day. I'd be left alone in the house with a nanny or Aunt Lazuli and her swollen belly. She'd tell stories of mom and her other sister. Gloss always said that Aunt Lazuli was longing for something in the past. She used to have a sister. Not mom, but another girl.

There was a year when more than two tributes entered the Hunger Games, in fact, four tributes per District entered the Hunger Games. Mom and Aunt Lazuli's younger sister, Aunt Vicuna if you would, volunteered. Mom and Aunt Lazuli were so sure that she was coming home. They didn't expect her to lose her head-twice. She became the arena psychopath, but still a heroine, much better than that District 12 boy. Still, they never told anyone outside their family, but, they were glad that she didn't come home.

 **Year Three:  
** This was the first year I actually had tangible memories. It may have been faint, but I was there in the square, with Gloss holding my hand, and we saw the fifty-first arena transform from a desert paradise into a hell hotel with a strike of lightning.

There were comparisons of how similar it happened to be to an older arena, a haunting garden maze, but this seemed to be scarier. Several tributes died as the hotel slowly collapsed. I hid my face during mandatory viewing with my brother. It wasn't until the Games were over before he broke the silence. "Cash," he told me. "We won. District 1 comes home." He had a genuine smile on his face but I could tell there was glory in his eyes.

Being the impressionable younger child, I immediately matched him. "I think we should win more."

 **Year Five:**

I first remembered having friends other than Gloss this year when we both went to the same school. I was only four and I had just as many friends. Dazzle was the first one, and my best friend for most of our school. She liked dancing and I was friends with one boy besides my brother-Flambe. He was really cute and he stayed cute through all the time I've known him but had problems with volume control. Reyna was my last friend I remember getting at this time and she was the smartest out of all of us but the most prone to violence. I'd stick with my friends even as their siblings cracked under the pressure of the Y.E.C., and even as they eventually did.

 **Year Six:**

Not much that I recall happened when I was six years old. I did get my first exposure to the library and all the books that I could choose to indulge myself in. Frankly, I never liked to delude myself with idealized fantasy and I preferred to remain rooted in reality. Gloss never could understand why I didn't get as giddy as he did for story time. I found myself more partial to the world of hardcore facts with potential numbers and working to a concrete goal. I did want to be a chemist in the future, before the games.

I picked up little books on chemistry as I left the library. Mom and Dad never did understand but they let me so long as I kept it to me and Gloss' shared room. They didn't want our younger sister and brother exposed to books before they learned their manners so I was mainly isolated.

 **Year Seven:**

That year I was first separated from my best friend. When a child hits 8 in the career Districts they take them to the Peacekeeper Academy or the Aqueduct, or the Y.E.C. to train. It's something that's been there since my parents were children and where they let us go. They say it is to make us into the best District 1 can provide. They turn us strong, they turn us prideful, they turn us beautiful.

The representatives are usually trainers, two or three of them come to school for all the eight-year-olds and make a large presentation for us to see. It's very persuasive and that is the first task. Convincing some trainers that you should go in. Luckily for Gloss but unluckily for me, he got in. He was gone within the week, and I could barely say goodbye as he was drafted into the scholarship program.

 **Year Eight:**

It was during this year Dazzle and I both got accepted into the YE.C for a residential program.

Going there, I found out he changed. He spent more time with people his own age and was much louder. He was also stronger and already the trainers were saying that he'd be gifted with the genes for a great future as a model citizen, though I could tell he wanted more. In the times that I did talk to him, he was louder and much more enthusiastic about learning about kills. I think this was the first year I learned that I was slowly losing Gloss.

 **Year Nine:**

The perk about being one out of 1000 residents in the Y.E.C. is that I'm able to see all that the center's library has to offer. There were books on so much, chemistry, engineering, biology, I made it a personal mission to read them all. I was delving into history when I picked up an old baking book. The sides were intricately designed with dark black feathers that seemed very aerodynamic. I looked through a genetics book and saw that it belonged to a Mockingjay…

Curiously I picked up a book on rebellion, one of the forbidden books, and found the elusive symbol staring at me as soon as I opened to page 385. The Mockingjay was red and there was a number. Avogadro's number-6.022 times 10^23 under a symbol of pi. I turned to a stoichiometry book and opened to page 314. There was Avogadro's number, written in large font, and redirected me to another book on geometry. The wild goose chase sent me to every field of education I could name, and I ended up in urban fantasy. There, along the side, was a ring. I slipped it on and began wearing it to class, unsure of what it would bring.

 **Year Ten:**

Gloss began being noticed by the trainers almost as soon as he turned 10. I wasn't as surprised when the trainers took notice of me by the time I hit the double digits. They said I was beautiful, had such a lovely brain, lovely locks, and could be trained for further. I was elevated to a higher status, isolated from my old friends-Dazzle and several other girls I befriended became examples of who not to be, not ugly but pretty, and not just pretty but beautiful. That was when I knew the influence that beauty had on life.

 **Year Eleven:**

There were about 100 girls for my year. There were about 50 boys. Gloss' year had about 60 girls and 50 boys. This was the narrowed class, the class where we prioritized victory, the class where we tried to be victor for the future even if less than ten percent of us made it home. We had combat with the upper classes more often than not and I was able to reconnect with who I regarded as my long lost brother. He hit 12 years of age, technically allowed to volunteer, but no one in District One is dumb enough to do that. We aren't all dumb blondes in that regard.

He had changed, though, much more bloodthirsty, more willing to enter violence, much more willing to watch blood, more excited about the games. Granted, he was always excited, but now, it seemed like he was perfectly entranced. I never could understand that.

 **Year Twelve:**

The ring I found (at this point) 3 years ago remained on my hands for all this time. I'd fiddle with it often, prompting Gloss to ask me where I got it. I'd just say I'd find it on the floor and we'd resume random instances of small talk. It wasn't much but we spent time in the cafe as he detailed so much of his flings with guys and girls alike. As a side note, it is basically common knowledge that 90% of District One is bisexual. I'm in that unfortunate 10%.

Still, it was during a break day when I sat in the cafe watching replays of the cornucopia rising into the air. We had just lost our girl in the 7 person bloodbath along the tail end and a battle between District 2's male and our male was about to ensue. It was obvious that District 2 was stronger but I knew that our guy could put up a fight, and they both ended pretty slashed up. It was up to the two kids they picked up after the bloodbath to heal them.

I was fiddling with my ring as Cecelia Turner began to heal the District One male worriedly. I found that one of our victors had her eye on me as I was fiddling with said ring anxiously. Radiance Mernal, once the beauty of District 1 for much of the capitol eye, had finally let the years begin to catch up to her but was still a radiant beauty that all District girls tried to look up to. She placed her hand on my shoulder and slipped a piece of paper. Once I got to a secluded area I began to read. Long story short, it invited me into the rebellion.

 **Year 13:**

After spending a year to learn what the rebellion entailed I realized that being a victor was much more vital than initially thought if plans for victory were going to go through. That year I also began training vigorously under Leopold, Radiance, and Venice-District One's frontrunners for an early rebellion. I knew I needed to kill. I found out my brother was in the same situation and a serious contender for being one of several future volunteers.

We had to learn to kill at an early age, regardless of rebellion. There were criminals in the District that we practiced on. It was similar to fellow careers in Districts 2 and 4. The specialty for girls were knives and the specialty for guys were swords. No matter the consequence blood flew onto the blades rapidly. It was after my first kill that the memories began to run, and soon enough, it was time for Gloss to enter Hunger Games 60 at the age of 17.

 **Year 16:**

After Gloss' games I would find him on the porch, blankly staring at the horizon as mom, dad, and little sister Porcelain ran off to do what it was normal people did in the District. "Is it bad?" Gloss would ask me.

"Is what bad?"

"I- I want to feel bad. I can't, I'm numb, and I hate it. I want to feel something for killing them. I shouldn't have, shouldn't have trained for this, shouldn't have been cast, shouldn't have locked you into this," he explained. "I hurt you by killing the others."

No matter how many times I'd try to tell him otherwise Gloss would just counteract my words and end up with nothing and he'd just be empty. Sorry for my run on but even seeing Gloss so distraught wouldn't prepare me for my own victory.

 **Year 17:**

That year, I was reaped. I guess protocol is that if a victor relative is reaped no one tries to volunteer. I was on stage with a one Johan Plaster. I'd say that it was very clear that District 1 was the crowd favorite among the careers with two deliciously sexy tributes that possessed ravenous taste. I try to forget what happened. I killed the girl from District 4 at 10th place when she turned on me. Johann was a friend, and I didn't have to kill him, but I killed the 2 tributes from 7 who did him in at 5th place. I killed the final tribute in an anticlimactic battle. Datum Rulrark from District 3 almost ran into me and could barely get his knife out in order to battle.

 **Year 18 and Beyond:**

Like my brother, I began to wonder if there was something wrong with me since I was able to soar through my Hunger Games. The Capitol wasn't able to get enough of me as the first girl from One to come home in a decade. They couldn't get enough of my brother-who was the first boy to come home for over 2 decades. We were ahead of District 4 and were very popular. We tagged teamed tributes. I love my brother, but I can't help but blame him for placing me in the Hunger Games. We evicted our parents and Porcelain a year after my victory.

About six months before that, we received word on the death of District 8's first. Spindelly Dicer. We were to bring tapestry so that we could wrap her body with good memories one last time before her burial six feet under. It was an arduous reminder that we, as victors, were still vulnerable. I couldn't believe it when my brother began to read the invite to her funeral with audible disdain. Delly Dicer was still a victor, and to see my brother disrespect her was an awakening.

The funeral was a quiet affair. Delly had no partner nor children but was the nicest victor according to our senior career victors. I couldn't cry during her funeral-just couldn't. I wanted to show my respects but I froze up as she was lowered into her grave. She was an influential victor, and I couldn't believe that my brother jsut passed her off. That was the year I tried to become more distanced from him.

Gloss would settle down with Jasmia. I'd have no one but my brother. And even then he was distant. Still, I love my brother, regardless of what the Capitol did to us, and the Hunger Games won't change that.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Cashmere is a much more fanon developed character than her brother, and I happen to like her better as well. Which is why this chapter is longer. She usually has the more sympathetic route, which I am guilty of.**

 **Anyways, next victor is going to have a chapter that I really hope you can sink your teeth into. That's her talent-puns. I hope you look forward to this next Oisin beloved character.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	62. Enobaria Urquadia

Fair warning for lewd humor.

 _ **Victor #62:**_

 _ **Name: Enobaria Urquadia**_

 _ **District: 2**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 062**_

 _ **Death: Kyrenia, 133**_

"Enobaria, are you sure you want to do this?" Marlin asks me. I rest with my back against a pillar, watching the big top of the circus ceiling slowly flutter due to some sort of wind. From what I know, he and I are the only members of the career alliance still allianced, but maybe Cove, Cross, and Embellish are still with each other, I can't really tell.

"Marlin, I'm an opportunist, shouldn't you know that by now? I feel if I tell you more, it'll just pile up More-lin your face," I joke, laughing as I polish my knife. I get no response from him besides him comedically falling over. "Hey, can you blame me if your jokes just lend themselves Mar to your linsanity?"

Once again there's a silence only interrupted by an awkward groan as he plops next to me. "If I was as insane as Polyp I'd slit your throat right now. I have half a mind not to blame you for the fact that our sponsors are dwindling."

"Are you kidding? They love my jokes. And even if they don't find it punny, then what are they going to do? Punish me for it?" he throws one of the pillows he got as a sponsor supply. I have to give it to him, District 4 has seen a drought of male careers lately, and he's much stronger than I initially thought. He really mar-lent himself well to the hunger games despite being reaped. "We'll go to the feast tomorrow, if sponsor support is dwindling like you've said, we have to make do with what we have."

"Fair enough," he says simply. He looks up at the sky for a minute, gently breathing. I know he doesn't take killing well even if he is good at it. "What do you think…" he begins to mumble.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"What do you think is going to happen at the feast?"

"End of the Hunger Games? At the very least 2 kills? What else would there be-a pole dancing duck as a bear shakes its booty?" I crack. It's probably not the best area to make jokes, but they always seem to help. "Maybe we'll see some of those other motherfuckers, or they'll send memories to us. I wouldn't know. Whatever it is, it's going to be something to feast your eyes upon."

There's silence for another good minute before I hear him turn over on our dirt floor. "Goodnight Enobaria," he says simply. I spend a second chuckling to myself before I turn to my friend, yeah. I consider him a friend, even if Lumin says that we shouldn't make friends. She says that Lyme was the best victor from 2 since she had an ability to keep away from her allies unlike her and Brutus. I need to break the alliance tomorrow if it means that Marlin and I are going to live somewhat longer.

As I drift to sleep I think about all dead tributes, remembering who is alive. Embellish from 1, me from 2, Cove and Marlin from 4, Red from 7-I think that was his name, Cross from 8, and Burgess from 11. I glance at my friend one last time, recalling just what he has to fight four, which is infinitely more than me, but again, only one of us can make it out alive.

I've always had weird dreams, and this one wasn't any different. We were still in the circus, but I was wearing a pair of too baggy pants. I turn around to find a bear, shaking its booty, having a name like pirate. Cross was there, wielding a cake pop like a sword as she seductively strode over to the bear, shedding its skin as Cross pole danced with the cake pop for him. I turn around again to hear Lyme dressed in dark curls and old gothic maid clothing shouting "NO THAT'S WRONG!" at a shriveling boy who turns into a cat that flies into the night, propelled by farts. I turn around to see Cross having sex with Glitter and Cove, who each wear a half of the bear. I turn around again to see Thor ejaculating with a loud groan and propelling his red colored cum into me. I fall into Cove's vagina, falling down to the center of earth.

When I wake up several hours later I'm sweating profusely, which I initially think is Thor's cum, but looking at a confused Marlin tells me that this is the land of consciousness. "Ready to go?" he asks warily.

"Yep. Just had an unusual dream," I simply state.

"Anyone die in it?" he asks concerned.

"No one we knew. Only a bear that Cross seduced, whose skin was used by Glitter and Cove as they fucked her," I quickly explain. "Silence. It wasn't anything more."

"Right…" he stammers. "Anything you want to discuss today?

"Yeah," I say slowly. "The elephant in the room no, seriously, there's an elephant in the room. What the fuck?" I hold my hand out and literally point it out, to which we decide to leave in a bewildered manner. "Okay, but the real thing. After the feast, I think that we should abolish the alliance. It isn't anything personal, but the two of us are just painting targets on each others' back."

"I was thinking the same thing. So it's agreed, the last of the careers are being abolished."

I shake his hand before hugging him tightly. I haven't hugged anyone except for my friends really, so that makes him one of mine. "Let's do this, and continue the glory days of the careers."

We walk to the site of the feast, where an array of animals waits with their mouths open. There are a couple of separate paths to the center, where all the food is. I decide to see what's up, looking at one of the larger poles and seeing the boy from District 7 perched on a pedestal, holding a weapon that I really haven't seen in the Hunger Games- a crossbow. They are too overpowered according to Onix. "Marlin," I alert my former ally. "We'll split off here. I'll see if I can help you. District 7 needs to get off his high horse." I point out the giant pole, with the boy from 7 resting in a sniper's position. "Take care."

"Safe voyage," he says. I draw one of my daggers and set to climbing the poles as Marlin slowly makes his way to the center.

I make it three-quarters of the way up when the boy from 7 moves. He puts his finger on the trigger and holds out as Cross moves into the main feast area, trailed by Cove. He fires, sending a cross bolt into Cove's head. Her cannon fires. I continue to make my way up as he prepares his perch, ignored by Embellish and Burgess from District 11.

I jump onto the pole, shocking the District 7 boy as he turns around, firing immediately. I bend over and let the bolt fly over. "Trigger happy, aren't you 7?" I ask threateningly. He drops the crossbow and nervously holds up an ax, preparing for battle. "I see, you're just going to forget I axed that, didn't you?"

"W-W-what?" he stammers. I catch him off guard and run to him, grabbing his flexed arm as he tries to flail about. I'm shocked with how easily he manages to switch his weapon to a longer knife. He's stronger than he looks, something that I'd expect from a lumberjack. He is a respectable fighter, at least until he tries to grab my boob.

It's a stoobid mistake. I slap him across the cheek and knee him in his dick and slam the handle of his axe into his head. He's knocked out immediately. I hold off on finally killing him for a while before picking up his crossbow. "I expect some people would be very cross with what I'm about to do now," I think out loud. With a chuckle I go to the 7 boy's perch, looking down at the awkward peace below. Embellish and Burgess are trying to work around each other to get to a prize in the middle. I aim at Burgess as she backs up uneasily against one of the statue tigers that surround him. She looks around in a daze before raising a hand feebly.

I see Embellish rush in, and immediately I realize what has to be done. I know that his knack for killing isn't at all embellished so I first decide to give his would-be victim a mercy killing. I fire the cross bolt into her head just as Embellish runs his sword along her legs. The arrow lodges in her eyes, and I duck shortly afterward to make sure that embellish doesn't notice me. "Guess she didn't see that coming," I joke snidely. I pop up, still wielding the crossbow.

The exhaustion from climbing several stories has gotten to me, and I lean over the wall to catch my breath. It's not the right time to think about it, but suddenly my brain flashes back to when I was several years younger, catching replays of one of our tributes in the second quell dying. Atalanta Thession, dead because her back was turned….because her back was turned…

I realize it's a warning as soon as I hear footsteps behind me and turn around abruptly. "What's good Red?" I snark. "Your name is going to be a good color on you," I taunt.

He rushes to me, grabbing onto my shoulders and trying to wrestle a knife out of me. He deals a wicked blow to my head, which I'm not sure how I didn't see it heading in my direction. He grips onto my shoulders tighter, clawing with his fingernails, with a look of fury on his face as he tries to growl. I'm a bit disoriented from the blow to the head when he tries to headbutt me again. I'm about to die when I remember a frowned upon tactic.

I swing my arms over his broadened shoulders and hug tightly. He's clearly confused when I flip him under me. I'm still disoriented and somewhat loopy, but with my weapons out of reach, I only have one choice. His Adam's apple is throbbing nervously under me and I'm sure that he's scared shitless.

I open my mouth wide and slam it tightly around his Adam's apple. I move my tongue tightly back in my mouth, almost choking on it in the high-adrenaline fight we're having. Still I regain enough composure and pull my lips back, exposing my teeth. It's taken me about a minute to explain what happened, but the real event only took three seconds. I bite tightly against his apple, hearing a terrible gurgle from under me. His blood flows to my mouth and I spit it out into his unsuspecting eyes, catching him off guard. His cannon won't fire until the end of the games, and from what I see below the feast is dying, with the animals moving out of position and meandering to their daily tasks.

I debate on joining them, thinking that I've become an animal myself. But then again, it was the district 7 boy who was all bark and no bite, and bit off more than he could chew. I go down the pillar, make my way to the feast, and grab a set of dried fruit. I really couldn't make myself meet the meat. When I leave I hear 3 cannons boom. It's the final 4 and the end is near. Hopefully I'll live to see the End-obaria.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **In hindsight, this format might not have been the best for Enobaria. And I'm sorry if the lewd** **humor kind of drew you away** **from this. I was trying to have a comic relief chapter for a while and Enobaria's was perfect**... **Speaking of, next chapter is...the female morphling from District 6. She isn't the most liked in the Capitol, so look at the next chapter to see why that is so.**

 **Hopping out,**  
 **Hopps**


	63. Levora Taptrix

_I apologize for any misconceptions about Levora's primary struggle, let me know, please._

 _ **Victor #63:**_

 _ **Name: Levora Taptrix**_

 _ **District: 6**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 15**_

 _ **Games: 063**_

 _ **Death: 105, Beacon**_

 **Why Levora Taptrix isn't the ideal victor.**

 _She breaks the rules, even at a young age._

Her parents are much like everyone else in the District, addicted to morphling as they toil away and hammer repeatedly at metal after metal so that they can make a new gas nozzle. She wants to break away from the model, she really does. At five years old she wants to help her parents anyway that she can. She doesn't understand how some people have more money than others do but she really wants some of that.

She walks up to the outlet of the bank of Panem one acidic and rainy day and asks if she can have money. "Why do you have all of this if you can't give it away?" She asks.

"Little girl," the man says it with a snarl. "We only have money because people give it to us to keep, and it is not our money to give away. Now shoo before I call the peacekeepers on you."

Levora acts like she understands before a family with heavy wallets walks up. She runs up to them, grabbing at the littlest boy and asking for a bit of money. They call the peacekeepers on her immediately. She's whipped three times and her parents suffer ten. Her scars last for years and are only taken away during reconstruction after her victory.

 _Levora was exhausted and not at all energetic._

At six years old, after getting whipped for one last time, her parents have had enough. They say that if she gets whipped one more time, she will get sent to the orphanage and everything that belongs to her will go to little Rylic and Vinia. They favor them compared to her, obviously.

She finds a job when walking through the district, like most good children do, avoiding the beggars and sticking to the sidewalks. A factory door is open, she walks in, and finds a woman dressed up as cleanly as being in District 6 will allow. "How good is your aim?" Levora is asked rudely.

"Ma'Am, I don't know what that means," she says timidly. "I don't go to school all that often but when I take tests I do okay."

The sharp woman clenches tightly at the throbbing vein in her temple before turning to the very short girl. Hesitantly she picks up a phone and puts her boss on the line. For several chilling minutes, Levora looks with a blank glance at the conversation ensuing in front of her. "We have a job opening for you. You will work two hours every day with our assault rifles. One day of training will come tomorrow and then you are expected to come at least 90% of your required days. We want you in school longer than you are in currently. How long do you spend in school now?"

"I think...I think 3 days a week," she hesitantly replies. She cowers slightly as the woman brings her hand up.

"Go for at least 5 days a week and we can pay you a dollar and fifty cents per every 2 guns you test. We'll shuffle you around as well. Do we have a deal?"

"Yeah...I think that's fine," she replies timidly.

She winds up turning to morphling every so often on days when she doesn't have school nor work. Even if she misses more than her required work days and the woman yells at her, she keeps her job. For a long time.

 _She doesn't see herself as who is in the mirror._

At 8 years old she looks at her hair, her eyes, her frame, and it isn't what she wants. Her mother just says that she'll get taller, she'll get prettier, and her hair will be as lovely as hers was. Her father doesn't quite get it either. She's a working girl, a nice girl, an obedient girl, and no matter what Panem wants people who are either working, nice, and obedient girls or boys.

She realizes the problem at school. There are new bathrooms and instantly all the children flock to check out the running water and new mirrors and nice hand soap. She finds out that there is something missing when she laments in one of the stalls. Maybe, maybe she can be nice, working, and obedient, but maybe she isn't a girl.

It's a weird revelation, but to her, it makes sense. She felt like her hair didn't fit her, neither did her blouses, nor her dainty little hands, nor nothing. She walks out of the stall and into the lost and found. There are clothes there, for little boys and little girls. Her girl's clothes are a little too big and smell like gunpowder. And in spite of finding new boys clothes that are probably stained and ripped, they feel like they fit her much more. Now if there was only something that she can fix her hair. She keeps her old girls' clothes but finds out they make accurate targets and help in testing the bullets. The woman at the desk calls her a good girl and gives her an extra fifty cents per 2 guns she fires. "Umm...can I be a boy now? I think I'm a boy really," she explains when the woman tells her about the raise.

The woman turns with a weird look and sighs. "In that case, I'll pay $1.95 per 2 guns that you need. You understand that I need to adjust for the atypical. If you have more girl clothing then we can use them."

He nods warily, a bit unsure of the world, but more confident in himself.

 _His reaping isn't orthodox_

It takes convincing, but his parents finally let him wear Mr. Taptrix' old reaping clothes since Rylic isn't going to be old enough to use them for a long time. He finally saves enough to cut his hair ever so slightly but his family says that hair grows quickly, especially with how choppy his hair looks. She couldn't be happier by the time of his reaping.

When his name is called, a stroke of luck, there's a bit of confusion as the girl walks out of the boys' side of the square. There's a bunch of confusion as he makes hisway to the stage, already crying slightly, and the escort asks him in that very airy voice as to who he is. "I'm Levora Taptrix. I'm a boy," he replies with a voice much more suited for girls.

The escort rubs his head and worriedly glances at him. "Don't worry darling, I know you're confused, but you'll be an amazing female tribute."

"I-I-I'm not a girl…" she says unheard by the mics. The escort picks another boy, which to Levora is breaking tradition, but the escort thinks is perfectly obedient. The escort just hopes that the little girl doesn't stir too much trouble.

 _Levora is too defenseless_

Levora is ridiculed in training even as he tries her hands at the bow and arrows. The insolent District 3 boy akes fun of his partner for having a crush on a girl. The girl from 3 and Levora are both reduced to tears, and there isn't anyone to defend them as they try their hands at weapon after weapon. "Hey, uhh, we don't have to have him in our alliance you know," Levora suggests.

"I know. He's just a bully, but he's a very good one. He doesn't think we are capable because you lost you're just trying to be a stronger person than when you were born. I don't really like girls. But you are a nice..boy to be around," she explains.

"Thank you," he replies curtly. "My mentor, Irumn, said that Verent tried camoflauge to help. Should we try?"

Pixl agrees and they give it a shot. Levora's artistry is beautiful but Pixl's kind of has hiccups along the ways. "We should do this again tomorrow, I think you're pretty good at this," Pixl compliments. "It could be what you do for your training."

Levora smiles at his ally, sure that they'd make it far-even if they both got a 4.

 _He is too confusing_

For interview night, it's a success for the careers. From the high scoring boys who all score 10's to that one girl who got an 11 Levora isn't sure with how he can compete with his own 4. "So, Levora is it? You look beautiful in this dress tonight," Caesar says.

"I don't like it," Levora states bluntly. Ther'es murmurs in the audience already but LEvora explains. "I wanted to wear a tux, it's what guys wear, and I don't know why Sysiphus didn't understand that."

"I'll be sure to talk to old Sissy after this show then," Caesar says with a chuckle. "Now let's talk about your four, don't you think a smart and beautiful girl like you could have gotten something better."

"No," he says, completely deadpan. "I'm not a girl. And I got the same score as that boy in District 10, so why is he a boy and I'm not?" The buzzer rings after his outburst. He's taken offstage and Pixl confronts him as stupid Menia calls him out, saying that he should have done what a girl should have done.

But he isn't a girl. He is a boy, forgotten, but a tribute in the games.

 _His presence...was just...boring._

The arena for the year is an airport. High in the air there are military planes surrounding the cornucopia and many more passageways out. Levora itches at his jumpsuit, giving him too much room in the front, as he looks around. Pixl is next to him, and the nearest career is 5 pedestals away and the rest are luckily on the other side. Pixl and Levora nod to each other as they point out identical bags. Their running stance loses its grip as the girl from District 5 drops her token. The ball flies out of sight but the girl's body is flung in every direction, splattering the nearest career.

Then the gong rings, stunned, Levora grabs two bags for him and Pixl. The career from 4 grabs at the two of them, holding back Pixl as Levora almost runs out of sight. The girl from 4 is strong and fast and it's only a blind grab in one of the bags that saves Pixl. She holds out the weapon, stunned, and and with shaking fingers holds the gun at the four girl. The four girl looks on in shock as Levora fires the gun twice. The girl squirms at the shot in her knee before falling with a bullet hole in her face. "PIXL!" he shouts.

Undeniably, after the bloodbath, it's still a quick game. After the 12 deaths of the bloodbath, the games only last for 13 days. Pixl dies when she tries to grab at a waterfall in order to quench her thirst, plummeting limitless feet as she tries in vain to grab at safety. She dies at 7th and is the last death before the end of the hunger Games.

From his perch, camouflagued a mettalic grey, Levora let out a sigh as Pixl appeared in the sky. She was his friend, one hundred percent, and one of the few people who considered him just like her brother. With a sigh he turns to the ceiling for the text announcement. From the sky he learns that after the bloodbath, and up to this point, 3 of the careers are dead, his partner gone three days after the bloodbath, and a good majority of the strong outliers gone. He turns to the sky, tilting his head back, and sleeping much like he has in his position.

 _Everyone hated what he did during the feast_

The feast is called the day after Pixl's death. It's an effort to draw the last tributes together. By his count, the girl from 1 who scored an 11, the boy from 2, the boy from 4, the boy from 5, and the boy from 8 are still alive. The strongest tribute in the Hunger Games, the only girl, Levora is going to have to do something about her. For the first time in days, Levora moves. He slinks through the dark hallways, not making a sound, with the twice fired gun, an extra round of ammo, a water bottle, beef jerky, and a comb in his pack.

He reaches the location for the feast, a wide hangar floating in the air while he prepares his perch. Luckily he knows that this room is never lit, so he doesn't have to have much to do to set up a camp. There he waits, and sleeps, waiting like a log due to his slight morphling addiction.

He wakes up to a scene of chaos. Planes zoom in and out and drop table after table of supplies onto tributes. He sees the tributes rush in, first the boy from 8 who gets slaughtered by the 4 boy. The 2 boy takes out the boy from 5 as the girl from 1 chases the boy from 10. He is slaughtered before the boy from 2 jumps on the girl. It's an exciting battle as the four boy begins to delve deeper in the maze of goods. He walks out...with a box of grenades.

Levora knows that its time. He pulls out the gun as the boy from 4, the boy from 2, and the girl from 1 stare at each other uneasily. A gunshot breaks the standstill. It makes its mark three times, and the ensuing explosion renders 3 tributes dead and one comatose. Like it or not, the capitol has their third victor from District 6.

 _He accidentally starts something so much more_

The Capitol tells Levora that he has to take her duties as a pretty little girl. Levora spits on the Capitol's dreams, and refuses to have his boobs enlarged. It's a simple gesture but the Capitol always takes it the wrong way. The Capitol gives her a victory tour that's lazy and not at all covered. They do give her District the supplies but they feel lighter, as Irumn puts it. She's been through two of them, and it's weird.

STopping over in District 3 is the worst. He gets word that Burell Mysten has died due to his presence. He doesn't get it but it sends him to sadness. District 3 is the worst spot on the tour. Long story short, it's terrible. The citizens call Levora girl repeatedly, say that Pixl had no right associating with a crossdresser, and that Levora deserved whatever _she_ deserved.

Whatever the case, Levora ruins the bonds between District 3 and District 6. Irumn is the last link to District 3 and works with Wiress and Beetee to save Levora for the rest of her stay.

In the Capitol, Levora isn't all that popular. **She** , as they call him, disrespected a prized escort who several years earlier brought home a victor from one of the other low Districts of Panem. The escort has been released of her escorting duties, the president tells her that the old gamemaker, Atticus Lucrezio, is now on strike 2 and he really isn't happy with **her**. Yep, she's hated for denying her stylist, who has gone distraught at having lost the opportunity for mentoring a victor and becoming reclusive. **She's** a terrible victor who didn't deserve the crown. Snow doesn't tell him this but he knows that the guise is still out there. His party is meager. Very few people walk over. Verent and Irumn call this a blessing but maybe he wants friends. Still, morphling is warm and helps her his art and works out in the end.

 _He becomes the terrible daughter_

The Capitol catches wind of a conversation. Levora is calling out his family for not being there and just coming back and back again with askings for loans. Verent gives his morphling to him because Verent is a friend, and he won't give it to his family because they turned coat on their stance to his preference. The entirety of his family leaves the next day. He doesn't see them ever again.

He learns the next year on Capitol mentorship that his family is dead. No fanfare, no nothing, dead in a transportation accident. That's the first year Verent finds himself stuck in a morphling rut, and the tundra is cold enough to dwell on it.

 _He becomes a rebel_

Under the guise of Morphling that Levora has tried ever so hard to avoid, he sends messages. He sends messages with Verent and Irumn along the train lines with their families. He becomes adept at doing it alone, and he's alone for a little under 37 years. Levora builds the legacy of a rebellion once Roryd becomes victor and leaves him alone for 2 years until he brings home his own victor. District 6 isn't prideful of the year they had 2 male tributes, but the boy who came home built a legacy.

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **It's a longer chapter this time. I've been experimenting with both the format and the characters, and I think that this one is really going to be a good chapter. But I'm not sure if this the most accurate portrayal**

 **Anyways, I also wanted to ask about something. Should I move any aspects of a dying to the end of a chapter? Have my closing notes come afterwards. I'll be testing out that format for a while after this chapter, since the victor 2 games afterwards has the very first victor dying. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Up next, a chilling end.**

 **Hopping out  
Hopps**


	64. Alejandro Strivend

_**Victor #64:**_

 _ **Name: Alejandro Strivend**_

 _ **District: 5**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 064**_

 _ **Death: 119, Vivacious**_

" _Well, this is new,"_ Alejandro thought to himself. It was an uncomfortable situation he found himself in, made only worse by the chill he felt by sitting under the air vent as the room chilled to an unsettling 68 degrees. Even a week after his games he could still feel his thumb shivering, despite having been gone.

He sat in front of a large elliptical table in the President's parlor with an array of food turning ever so slowly. There were designs in the rotating center but it was a simple 12 rays that came from the center. On either side of him were Barbara Gentrix and Mullen Jolts, the husband and wife team who won their games a decade after each other. It was odd to him how some married couples wouldn't change their names but being victors there was a necessity to keep their images up. Barbara and Mullen, though reaching the later years in life, both were very fit and slender due to their time helping out around the schools. Still, their nervousness caused them to shake almost as much as Al.

There were two capitol officials on the opposite sides of the three of them who looked around with tattooed and nervous eyes but often turned away at the three victors in front of them. They both had Capitol licensed gamemaker robes that fluttered nervously behind them. Despite this, it was easy to tell who the most senior of them happened to be on accord of the gold flecks lining the folds of his robes. From his seat, Alejandro could tell that the senior gamemaker was muttering something along the lines of "3 strikes...3 strikes…"

A younger and pretty girl rounded out the motley party. She sat at one of the ends of the table and was visibly blushing with the glances she spared at the District 5 victors. It was apparent that she wasn't as official as the gamemakers with her colorful garb and vibrant palette of makeup that she had on. She wasn't much, if a little portly, but Alejandro couldn't really keep his eyes off of her. Hell, he can't keep his eyes off of color after his games.

There's a particularly harsh blast as the door opens and Alejandro curls up unintentionally. He's helped to his feet by the elder victors as everyone around the table stands promptly for the arrival of President Coriolanus Snow. Now that he thinks about it, Snow is now his least favorite weather...and that goes two-fold…

They wait with tensed hands as President Snow takes a seat. A squad of Avoxes walks up with trays of food and regal sounding music, delivering to each a tall glass of wine or cider or cola, and setting their luscious food on the table. "Hello my guests," Snow says. "Please, do dig in. I had this feast prepared for all of you so I would love for you to just try. And don't worry, my chefs can take the criticism."

Awkwardly they ate. There wasn't much anyone was able to say at that. To all of them, they were skating on thin ice. Out of his peripheral vision, Alejandro Strivend caught Barbara and Mullen sharing worried glances with each other before sporadically returning to their meals. "Excellent meal father," a voice perked up. All eyes turned to the other end of the elliptical table as the colorful woman stood up. "May I take care of my business now?"

"Why if it isn't any problem with District 5 then you may as well," Snow said. His voice was beaming but his tone was icy, much like always.

The eaters all looked as Valencia Snow stood up and stretched before making her way to the District 5 victors. "I'm sorry for the scare with all the business back there. I'm Valencia Snow and I'm the biggest fan of District 5. Might I have your autographs for this year?" Relieved, the victors took a pen and pad from her hands and elegantly wrote their signatures. "I'm mighty pleased that District 5 took home the crown once more, even if meant sitting through those games."

She left with her high heels clinking against the smooth marble floors and the massive elm doors slamming behind her. "Truly sorry about that, my daughter is quite the District 5 fanatic. I say that she takes after me in terms of _underdog_ underdog victors," Snow explained. "Barbara and Mullen, if you do have children in the future, please keep them under control, Valencia is a spitfire herself and one could say that I've prematurely aged because of her. But enough about me. I trust that you are all done eating, so my avoxes shall take the dishes from you."

At his words, the avoxes strode in the room and took the dishes off of their hands swiftly. They also brought in a large television and placed a block of controls for Snow's usage at his perch. "Before we begin, I must say, congratulations Alejandro for your recent victory. I assume that you're feeling mighty cold right about now. Rest assured that the temperature will warm up about now."

"Why...why..why...am I...here?" Alejandro said, shivering uncontrollably. "I thought...I thought that I could go home," he replied in a much higher voice than when he was reaped. His new tongue felt kind of weird in his mouth but was manageable.

"My apologies once more for bringing you and Ms. Gentri and Mr. Jolts here unannounced. I'm sure you guys are just anxious to know what went wrong in your Hunger Games. They were meant to create suffering, but I can say that you didn't deserve that white wasteland that you plopped into. Entertain us, Mr. Lucrezius. Tell us why you decided to go for the tundra this year of all years."

All attention turned to the head gamemaker, Lucrezio as he was known among the victors. Under him, new and exciting arenas from the Hunger Games 50 onward dotted the minds of the general capitol populace. This year, was his first dud. "Well, we wanted to have a more mellow arena after last games' explosive games. This arena was to be a beautiful wonderland and elusive at that. There were to be beautiful nighttime scenes and overall a more peaceful games, like Cane Detrary's arena."

"So where did that fail?" Snow asked immediately afterward.

To much others' surprise, the junior gamemaker responds. "Mother nature is a hard mistress. Everything was in play for the winter wonderland. Our forcefield failed as soon as the storm of the century hit the arena site. The ruins of Antarctica hadn't been charted before now."

"Why did you put the tributes there if everything that could have done wrong, went wrong?" Mullen Jolts spoke up. Immediately he tightly gripped Alejandro's shoulder as Barbara looked in terror.

"Mullen has a point," Snow said after much consideration. "You had three arenas set up, and both arenas were decidedly in a much better state than this arena. I am sure that even in the Districts there are accommodations for unruly weather."

"We do, mister President," Barbara speaks up. "For the dust storms in some of our neighborhoods, we lock down with tighter bolts for the day. It usually lasts until the end of the storm, but they are simple powerlines and we can always transfer to solar energy."

"Do you hear that Lucrezio," Snow asked mockingly. "They prepare so that they can bring us power. If they can do that constantly, surely you can prepare for an annual event. But, let us move on. Alejandro my good sir, if you would like to leave you may, we are going to be talking about your games, and I know that not all of our victors make comedy routines at their kills."

"S-sir, I would...I would like to say," Alejandro stutters. "Can I-just...have a blanket or a coat? I'm still..kind...of...cold." he was never a particularly outspoken kind of kid, and his relatively small frame of five feet, four and a half inches tall was never that good at being noticed. He immediately relaxed as he was given a warm blanket that he wrapped around his shoulders.

Their attention was directed to the plasma screen on the other side. A sweeping shot presented the golden cornucopia, the only source of color besides the backpacks and blood that eventually marred the landscape. "Twenty-four tributes that all showed promise. Six tributes dead in the bloodbath, the boy from District 10, the girl from District 10, the girl from District 3, the boy from District 11, the boy from District 8, and the girl from District 12." As he said those words the tributes all lined the top of the screen. "However, let me ask this of you. What was in those backpacks?"

Lucrezio's lip came to turn upward as soon as the image of a bag appeared on the screen. "The typical contents of the bags were a thermos, a pack of beef jerky, and a knife. Some of the larger variants had more food, such as dried fruit, and more water, with the possibility for a roll of bread and a belt of knives. We had 15 larger variants on the field compared to the 60 smaller ones. I think that Alejandro got one of the large ones."

"Mister President we didn't put in any heating elements since there was wood around the arena-"

"But-But... But where were they?" Alejandro stammered. "I-I-tried l-looking for them on days 3 and 4. I had to keep moving….it...it was after I saw...Jovianne's face in the...the...the sky. It was colorful...but it wa..was so short."

Jovianne was the better scoring of the two of them, earning a 7 to Alejandro's 6 and was the favorite. Clearly, snark won out over good old humor. "The trees we had planted, the good trees toppled in the storm just before, and they were buried. It was hard to get coverage, and they were under so much snow," Lucrezio feebly explained.

"That problem was one that could have been easily averted. But there was a problem. I believe on the first night, Haymitch Abernathy, Seeder Firest, and Quiltan Mirie all looked for the same item. Care to tell us the chaos in the room, Barbara?"

With a nod, she gripped the table tightly and held her breath before replying. "We had no blankets. No matches, no fire starters. The temperature dropped 2 degrees, but Haymitch lost his boy, Quiltan lost her girl, and Seeder lost her girl, in that order."

"We had control of the temperature to an extent," the junior gamemaker tried to defend himself. "But whatever we pressed there was no apparent change. We did manage to get the dome up, and we wanted to emulate nighttimes in wintertime Antarctica. So we had the sun set 6 hours into the day."

"Yet that wasn't the only danger in the arena. The ice floes you chose to build your arena on appeared unstable. From the outside, ice floes crashed against each other, cracking the inner ice, and opening gaping ravines. That was the first year we lost the cornucopia," Snow explained. As if on cue, the infamous Cornucopia collapse began to play. They lost the career contenders, the boy from 2 and the girl from 1, as the landmark fell in the frigid waters. They fell at 15th and 14th. The careers were forced to wander. Luckily, a kill was made, the girl from District 6, but it was sloppy and not what the Capitol wanted, and ended with the Girl's head in te water.

One more tribute died in the night, bringing the total to 11 last tributes. "Day 3 was boring and emulated what would happen in the third week of the arena. In that time, only two actual kills, both by our victor, managed to occur. What went wrong?" Snow asked one more time.

There was no response as the screen showed Alejandro knocking the girl from 4 in the water as they raced against the widening crack behind them. No tributes died that night, finally, the temperature issue was fixed, but tributes mainly stood put and tried to preserve their heat. A feast was called, for the promise of a heater, but in the blinding snow, no one was able to find any landmark. The heater was lost to the snow much like most other tributes. At a rate of 4 days before a death, the last bit of action was on day 15. Alejandro silently slit the 10 girl's neck while the three remaining careers all took each other out. Alejandro was the only tribute smart enough to keep moving, and even then, victory came almost too late when he fell unconscious on day 25. Day 26 was the day of victory when the girl from District 7 died.

"I believe all our matters have been dealt with. Barbara, Mullen, and Alejandro, you all are free to go. I will have my guard escort the three of you back to the mentor center. We still have final proceedings to take care of on this sunny day. As for our gamemakers, I'll have to talk with them a while longer," Snow explained.

Barbara and Mullen locked hands as the peacekeepers took Alejandro and them out of the parlor, slamming the door behind them. Alejandro was involuntarily hugging his mentor as they were sent into the car. "Mullen," Alejandro asked timidly. "How can I keep warm? I know that District 5 is a desert, but, I still want to keep warm for the night."

Ruffling his victor's head, Mullen and Alejandro talked of a routine that would undoubtedly keep him heated. It was just a workout, but still, Alejandro would keep warm for every night. And luckily for him, the spotlights for the interview allowed him to sweat.

He had never missed it more than he did that year.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **One last chapter before my spring break is over. The Tundra arena was always something I loved to see, and was one of my favorite chapters (Mitt) in Oisin55's the victors project. Here is my take on it, you'll notice that I shared a couple of elements, but I hope it's different enough for Alejandro to stand on his own. Up next, THE BEST MOTHERFUCKING CHARACTER IN THE-. Sorry, I'll try to keep my biases out once more. It's going to be very hard for me to give this character justice, but I hope it'll be acceptable.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	65. Finnick Odair

_**Victor #65:**_

 _ **Name: Finnick Odair**_

 _ **District: 4**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 14**_

 _ **Games: 065**_

 _ **Death: "**_ _ **Emmeline(94)"**_ _ **Anemone (136)**_

 **Recipe for a victor:**

 **1\. 5% Luck-** Finnick Odair, born 4 months after victory, was already noted as a very attractive child. The compliments year after year simply keep piling up and up. He's sent to school, like most other kids, and even at 5 years old the teachers note him as an exemplary student.

But he thrives most often in the ocean. The one week of every month his strong, seafaring father comes home and envelopes both of his children in warm hugs. He's one of the deep sea fisherman, sometimes sailing as far out as the ruins of the Yucatan Peninsula to get a great meal. He brings his family good money, and he, Finnick, his sister Coral, and his wife- Stream, are on the wealthier side.

It is when Finnick is 2 years old, just after Polyp (or Skipper or Volga or Victoria) brings home the crown to District 4) when the Capitol gives the citizens a 2-week break. It is during this time that Carlos Odair takes his family to one of the closer islands to show them how he works. Finnick and Coral get their first total glimpse of the ocean.

There's no land in sight, and Finnick and even see dolphins. He goes on the half-submerged deck that his father attached to the back of the boat and reaches out. One of the dolphins swims next to him, splashing him with water. Dolphins are good luck in the District, that much is sure, and it's actually 2 dolphins that swim next to him.

The next day, they swim out, and his father catches the largest shark ever caught. Maybe his family is naturally lucky, but maybe it's Finnick.

 **2\. 7% notability-** Even going in class for the first time at 5 years of age, he's noticed as attractive. Honestly, it's his most notable feature. For a child, he has something about him that makes it easy for people to notice him. His teacher's aide, Abalone Servos, says to her mother that it's a good combination of his gentle tanned complexion, his perfectly windswept hair, and his relaxing green eyes. Her grandmother takes note and finds the boy as his parents walk him over.

"He's a very dynamic boy, as my daughter says," Old Mags dotes. "You seem like a lovely family. How haven't I seen you around the District before?"

Finnick overhears his parents talking as he plays in the little wading pools, talking with his massive circle of friends. "I always liked Mags," Finnick notes.

"She's old and crusty," one of them, a boy named Birken, says carelessly. "I like Lilo and Cane."

"Mags has more energy than the two of them combined," Finnick declares, laughing as they splash around.

"Well, Lilo is better looking."

"That's because she's younger, and spends more time on the sea. Mags is more accomplished."

They splash in the water a little more, joking about who would be the better victor, who is the better victor, and how they could kill each other in the Hunger Games. It's a while before Birken has to go back home and Finnick takes his parents' hands as they walk to him.

"Finnick," Avalone says calmly. "Mags said that she'll teach you how to be a great person for the District. We will talk to her more this week, and find out what is best for you." Finnick nods obediently, gazing at the sun in the distance, waiting for that most beautiful moment to hit.

 **3\. 5% attractiveness- ** As the years move on, Finnick becomes more and more attractive, and he becomes more and more noticed by the common District 4 eye. He hits puberty relatively early, hitting his growth spurt at the ripe age of 10. The changes are subtle at first, just extra endurance and more notable strength, but there are more and more girls noticing him when he fully enrolls in the academy.

He doesn't just put his endurance and strength to the academy. Four times a year his father gets permission to take him and Coral out to the ocean, finding out that he has a natural hand at pulling the ever so heavy nets and spearing any last struggling fish. Every time he comes back from his week on the ocean, his fan base sees him as much stronger and much more attractive and filling out just so much more.

By the time he reaches 14 years old he's already hit a remarkable height of five feet 10, taller than most of his peers. He's a bit more conscious about his looks, and takes his time styling it just so- it is what his 'fans' expect from him. Still, he uses his looks to cover up his skill at taking down trainees twice his size and matching adeptly with some of the more competent trainers.

 **4\. 4% Fearlessness-** His name is called at 14 years old, one of the years where they fail to produce a male volunteer. It's been happening a lot by the time of Hunger Games 65 for District 4, the boys just haven't been up to snuff compared to the girls, and District 4 mania hits closest there. Still, he walks on stage next to the brave 18-year-old girl who volunteered for a simpler girl, just as determined as she is.

Mags volunteers to be his mentor, swapping places with Skipper as they ride on the train. Finnick is actually an analytical person, doesn't look like it, but Mags knows taht he can find threats in all opponents. Four's allies in Districts 1 and 2 are the typical sort, strong, and a little bit bloodthirsty, and greatly noble in their causes. They have occasional allies in Districts 7, 8, and 9. The girl from District 9, usually District 1's sister District, is the best of the lot, standing over much of her peers and with muscles like steel cords. The boy from District 8 is crafty but physically weak, they might include him. The filler Districts, 3, 5, 6, 10, 11, 12, only produce one tribute of threat level note the girl from District 6. Unlike her shivering teens, she isn't addicted, and though she is wary and holding back a sniffle, the camera doesn't pan away in time to hide her satisfied smirk. This is in stark comparison to Veronica of District 5, child of Vedits Montcliff. She has to be dragged out of the square and is separated from her mother until the goodbyes, screaming and crying much more than Finnick has seen a 13 year old cry.

The competition will always be thick, but Finnick will stand the boldest, and Mags stands by him. Finnick already is one of the more composed tributes of the year and by the betting information that their escort has, Finnick is one of the fearless favorites alongside the girl from District 6 and the boy from District 1.

 **5\. 9% charisma- ** He's already a naturally smooth talking dude, so to say, and the angle that his stylists have, send him into lady killer levels of flirts. Finnick is a guy who makes friends easily but has actually only kept 3 or four. Annette Cresta, Birken Drovels, Halbend Drift, and on good days Epson Cortez. They stood by him through it all, his best friends, and training partners at that. Annie is the best with a spear, Birken with his array of swords, Halbend with projectiles, and Epson with her traps. Clearly, they're on his mind as he barrels down the avenue of tributes clad in nothing but a merman tail and gold sash.

Oh yeah, the crowd loves him. They're stunned by his spectacular frame, his subtle but attractive six pack, his glistening pecs, and most of all, his alluring eyes. He gives them a wink as they pass by, and the audience screams in ecstasy, already shooting the favorite tribute to a level yet unseen.

His charisma ends up putting him on good terms with most of the careers and outliers, save one or two jealous boys. He's kind and helpful, easily ensnaring people with his voice, and his genuine kindness doing so much to help him.

Finnick is the favorite during the interviews, cracking jokes easily, acting with great maturity, and never directly insulting his fellow tributes. He's loved by the capitol and admired by his fellow teens. It's a double-edged sword, he's sure, but Finnick has a secret. He can disassociate his charisma from the competition, and the tributes don't take it as an offense. In fact, the capitolites daresay that they're honored to compete with his presence.

 **6\. 25% skill- ** If his 10 doesn't emphasize it, the highest score given to a boy his age, his flexibility with weapons just so happens to. His best weapon isn't in the arena when the games begin, but Finnick finds a spear and sword, running swiftly in the damp sand that forms the battlefield that year. His clothes, a white shirt and blue swim trunk (every District has a differently colored pair of shorts), do little to protect him but they do little to impede him as he kills the girl from District 6 and the boy from District 10. The careers, this year being the classic sextet, and the girl from 9 and the boy from 8, meet up with him after the battle, bemused as the water level slightly rises, settling in quickly, and setting out on a hunt just as the 9 cannons boom.

Of course, skill doesn't save Finnick from being separated from his partners when a tsunami separates all the careers. It's just after the boy from 2 and him kill the tributes from District 11 when the tsunami rolls in, driving apart all eight careers. He's a strong swimmer but separated from the majority of his supplies, and without an ally in sight. His sponsors keep him supplied with simple meals, and somehow Finnick knows that he has to prove himself.

 **7\. 11% ruthlessness-** Finnick's most savage kill comes three hours after the tsunami separates him from the careers. The boy from District 12 is stronger than most other tributes in the past, and charges at an unsuspecting Finnick as he wanders in search of the ocean. The boy from 12 is stronger than Finnick thought and handy with a close wielding ninja star. Finnick gets a cut to his knees and to his arms but doesn't let it faze him as the flips the boy onto a tree, wrestling the ninja star out of his hand, and driving it through the boy's eye. It's a brutal death, and Finnick's fourth kill, taken out at 11th place, a high placing for 12.

Yet...something...snaps. It isn't a branch, but his mind. He knows that the end game is near, even with 10 of the original 24 tributes remaining. He has 3 weapons now, a spear, a sword, and a ninja star, with as much food as a boy could hope for in the hunger games. But the parachutes thin after the night, and Finnick realizes he needs to set a trap. The arena that year is a jungle island, so vines are aplenty.

He recalls the strategy, luring out a larger prey, ensnaring it with a large net, wait for it to struggle… The strategy just finishes running through his mind when the capitol anthem plays, showing the three deaths of the day. It's only afterward when a large parachute falls his way.

 **8\. 26% Determination- ** It's a trident, no hiding it, emblazoned with gems and shimmering with silver and gold, and the most valuable gift in the arena. He looks at it, with his net of vines, and a plan begins to play. His weapon, his signature from the training academy, the trident, and he's infinitely more lethal with it compared to the sword, the ninja star, and the spear combined.

It's that point when the capitol thinks-no- **knows** -that Finnick will be the victor. Even at 14 years old, he sets out as morning hits. His pack behind him, net in one hand, trident at guard. Veronica Montcliff scavenges mere 10 yards away from him at one point, and she doesn't even notice she's dead until the net flies over her. It's a simple stab in her neck before she's dead at 10th. It's his most iconic kill.

The boy from District 8 takes out his last ally at ninth, the girl from District 1, and moves around in a daze. He's very much open for the net to fall onto him mere minutes later. Finnick finds the boy from 2 shortly afterward, throwing the net at him. Still, they fight, with Eusine ripping the net off of him, and facing the four boy at large. Finnick is strong, but Eusine is slightly stronger, but a bit clumsier. Eusine falls over a rock, and Finnick swiftly stabs his neck. It's an accident when he kills his partner, but at this point, she's basically feral, fringed hair and foaming at the mouth, and she runs to him begging for a mercy kill. The girl from 2 thinks she can catch him off guard that night, but she doesn't see the net flying out to her in a blink of an eye. The boy from District 7 fights Finnick and knocks him flat, but he jumps over him and opens his gut for a prime stabbing position. His last kill, Taffy from District 9, puts up a fight, but loses her balance and opens herself up for the net. HE doesn't throw it, him throwing his trident is enough to finish her off. Finnick Odair, 14 years old, 11 kills, becomes the first guy to come home from District 4 in exactly 30 years.

 **9\. 3% Control-** Finnick heals quickly, having gotten out without much more than a slight scratch on his ankle. That's only the physical aspect, his mental aspect needs something much more control. Finnick tries to lash out at a nurse, once, twice, before he's fully recovered, and his fingers are twitching for rope. But the capitol gets the Finnick they love just in time for his interview, and he's just as charismatic when he left.

When he comes home to District 4, he's treated as almost deity-like. Like one of those old seafaring Grecian heroes whatever the fuck that means. He helps train trainees in the Aqueduct, working closely with Andromeda, but spends, even more, time on the sea with his four core friends. He adapts well enough, but sometimes the nightmares come back, and only Annie Cresta can quell them. Finnick is fully in control one day on the open ocean, when he kisses Annie on her birthday, a gentle peck, but there are sparks from both sides. "Don't' volunteer," he tells her. "I won't lose you."

 **10\. 3% love-** It isn't the fake, constructed love. Not the one in the Capitol that just shows their love for District 4 in whatever means necessary, the men and women who throw them at him, but genuine love that starts from the heart and spills into the brain.

When his parents disappear due to a seafaring accident when he denies a much older man of his touch in a public location, he sends his sister to the out districts, where she can have children in peace, and escape to District 11 when needed. He sends her off when Annie Cresta and Halbend Drift enter the Hunger Games.

Finnick becomes Annie's mentor, catering her to her whims, calming her down, letting old Cane take care of Halbend, who is a capable tribute. They are sent to a chilly but wet jungle, abundant in water. Finnick sends Annie gifts as she almost cries at killing the girl from 5 in the bloodbath, and holds his breath as Annie is chosen to take out the boy from 10 in a brutal manner. Halbend takes care of the kills, already at 4 when the girl from 2 turns on him. Halbend's head comes cleanly off. Annie spirals into an uncontrollable rage as soon as Halbend dies, slaughtering the 2 girl before fleeing into the woods in a frenzy. Finnick sleeps with the gamemaker who is second in command and convinces her to let one of the dams loose due to an earthquake. Annie outlasts the last 7 tributes.

He takes Annie out to the ocean, holding her hand as she screams, promising her that it will be better, and Halbend is grateful wherever he is. Annie feels something back, but he can't reciprocate it yet.

 **11\. 2% Rebellious-** His actions begin immediately after his games, working with several disloyal trainees as they move to the towns closest to the other Districts, sometimes sailing for weeks on end to the outskirts of 11 to drop a package or two, or even the outskirts of 12 to drop a package. Sometimes, for his appointments, he finds a rebel, and invites them to join the cause. He meets up with fellow career and underdog rebel victors- Acacia, Leo, Gerry, Mags, Woof, Radiance, Sullivan, Pharlax, Weaven, Vander, Venice, Cecelia, Lyme- and several more. They have to take things terribly slow, but the frame is there, with the secrets Finnick extracts from his clients.

The year after District 5's girl comes out of the arena, Finnick talks with the headgamemaker. The headgamemaker still quavers at the middle-aged, perfectly fit, still attractive, elusive Finnick Odair. He's rehearsed this quite a bunch, went over what he needed to say, and the time is ripe. He talks to the gamemaker in that same unrelenting and seductive voice, hearing him quaver. He reveals what he knows, spilling decades of secrets purged from his clients to the unknowing Pileas Forthus. His secrets will be revealed if Finnick isn't taken from capitol watch list. There's a new president too, and it's just perfect enough for Finnick to escape the limelight once and for all. Finnick, ever the mischievous boy, reveals his secrets on a visit to the capitol, turning Forthus and the former President Snow into a laughingstock. Forthus kills himself and Finnick is free.

President Flare officially announces him as dead. Little does he know, he and Annie have escaped into the far islands, far from District 4 and panem, with a couple of others. Finnick actually dies hunger games 136, long after he's beaten the capitol. He has only hope that eventually, the Districts will do the same.

 **Extra ; **Interactions- Finnick Odair is a well-respected victor. Lumin notes on his tour that she thinks that old man Lupus would be proud, but he died the winter before Finnick's games. She explains that Lupus told his victors to be cordial to each other, even when times were tough, not to hold things against each other, actually a rebellious act. Finnick notes that he must have been a tough but scary guy, and Lumin says it's 100% accurate. "He was a teddy bear," she notes as they muse over Lupus' grave. A reassuring wind flies over the tombstone, and Finnick smiles.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **This chapter. It was one of the longest I've made, and I'm sure that my bias for THE BEST MOTHERUFKCING CHARACTER IS REVEALED BECAUSE FINNICK ODAIR DIDN'T DESERVE THE SHIT END HE GOT IN MOCKINGJAY AND DESERVED TO BE WITH HIS WIFE AND CHILD AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER! So Finnick's chapter shows him as the prodigy he is, and the best character there is. I hope the ending didn't turn you off, but this is actually one of my favorites. THREE GUESSES WHY AND THE FIRST TWO DON'T COUNT!**

 **Next chapter comes straight from the horse's mouth.**

 **Hopping out,**

 **Hopps.**


	66. Adam Hook

_**Victor #66:**_

 _ **Name: Adam Hook**_

 _ **District: 10**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 066**_

 _ **Death: Shale, 140**_

"Attaboy," I hear my master saying. He gets off of my back and slowly guides me into the barn. He holds his hand out with my leash as he slowly opens the door. I can see him recoil momentarily as the smell hits him. I never did understand how he couldn't stand it after his vacation. He's a strong guy, and my favorite of the Hook ranchers, and undoubtedly the head of household.

Adam, that's his name. Sometimes his parents take me, on the routes out to the further areas, since apparently, Adam had a job to do. I don't understand, I see families on the street when Adam has to take me down to the District center, sometimes looking at televisions as shells of their former selves, but oftentimes they have to remain with their heads held high.

"Come on Braze," Adam calls to me. He's always had a strong but gentle voice, and he's always been the most popular around the ranch for that reason. I'm not his only horse, but I think he said that I'm his favorite. He's always had a way with animals. "Let's get your usual up today. I know you like it."

He attaches the burlap sack around my neck after putting in my favorites. There's barley, mangoes, rye, and carrots. There's a different taste too, we don't have it often but on good days, and it's been coming more frequently. I don't know what it is, really, but it's really tasty. It's wet, hard, sweet, and just a bit tough. I like it.

Adam smiles as he grabs one of the books off of my saddle. He also picks up his lunch bag from the side of my body and opens it for his lunch. I'm a bit confused when he opens the first layer of his lunch bag to show a salad. I look at him confusedly as he continues to eat it. I stop when I realize that his next meal is meat, probably steak. Most of my fellow animals in District 10 are usually used for meat. The horses: Me, Secretariat, Kent, Leap; the Dogs: Martyr, Heather, and Jux; we're the only species who usually escape this fate. There are hundreds of other animals with us, sheep, cows, pigs, goats, but I usually don't make friends with them. They don't live long.

He opens the magazine and lightly gasps. I turn in shock and find him clamping a hand over his tiny mouth before nervously chuckling and putting away his meal. He smiles before petting my head. "Sorry about that, I just read something in the paper. Torrent, one of the first. He died yesterday. I'm going to have to go on vacation again, sorry my friend. Didn't know much of him, but I didn't kill his tributes," he says. I don't quite get it, but I can sense the sadness in his voice. He continues to groom me while I finish my meal. It's a relaxing scene for a while and I like it.

I find it interrupted when there's a harsh knocking on the barn doors. He turns away in shock and slumps his shoulders in annoyance. "Jose. Didn't expect to see you today," he says as warmly as he can.

"I work here. Of course, you'll see me here," Jose Maylus says just as cold. "Is it really that much of a surprise? Come on, you know you can't stay away from me."

He approaches Adam with a sultry smile as I rear up my legs. Adam turns away coldly and brushes him off. "I told you, I can't be like that anymore," Adam says. "I can't...look, I don't want to do something I might regret. I can't handle it you know. I'm sorry. You should be with someone better."

"Adam, you always were the selfish one," Jose says coldly. "I don't understand why we really can't go back to-"

"Because we can't," Adam says bluntly. The conversation stops for an odd minute before the door to the barn opens. Adam's little brother walks in with the nurse. His brother-I think his name is Colt, also has his younger brother, a 9-year-old named Geryon, also walks in. I see Adam and Jose just mill about as they move to separate parts of the barn and haul down hay for each other. I instinctively trot over to one of them as the other brothers get another horse-Kent. He's a good one, one of the elders, one of my friends, and Kent has good babies.

Occasionally I glance to Adam and Jose as they work in silence and haul bales of hay from one level of the barn to the other level. Geryon leaves with a smile on his face and one of my nurses and blacksmiths comes in. Katie, that's her name. She has new horseshoes for me and is one of Adam's best friends.

"Hey Adam," she says. Katie always smiles like that with Adam, and I never could find out why. Humans are weird. "I have some new horseshoes for Braze. I'll put them on right now, you need to be there with him to put them on?"

"I'm confident that Braze trusts you," Adam says. "You're basically one of the family now. I'll check in on you two in a bit."

Colt finally runs out of the barn, leaving Adam, me, Katie, and Jose alone. There's a silence as the wind comes in. It ruffles my mane a little bit, but I'm not too cold. I don't think that Adam is either considering how he's sweating talking to Jose. "I don't get you," Jose says.

"Come again?" Adam asks.

"You say you aren't comfortable with anyone, yet Katie can just waltz right in and feel you up with-"

"She's doing her Job bucko! I don't see why you're jealous of Katie. She's just a friend."

"Yeah, like Mason was, or like Hunter was, or Synia, or Vynia? What am I to you? Your fourth boyfriend among eight?"

"You're being irrational!" Adam shouts, his voice escalating. Katie and I turn to the escalating argument as she slowly pats my legs, trying to keep me calm. I have seen it before. Adam grabs his hunting knife that he sometimes uses in his right and grabs the whip with his left. Jose is already preparing for a brawl. They're both bigger guys and though Jose is bigger I think Adam actually killed people. "Why would you accuse me of doing that?"

"Adam, you've been terrible after your games! I thought you promised that we'd be back to normal! You've betrayed my trust!"

"That's irrational," Adam declares. They take a step to each other, glaring intently into each others' eyes. "I thought you would be the one to understand, to help me, but when I invite you over, you're nowhere to be found from here to District 4….we're through."

There's an awkward silence. Adam relaxes his grip on the knife just as Jose punches him in the face. "About fucking time," the ranch hand says. He leaves the barn in a huff. Adam keeled over and is holding his cheek in pain. He breathes heavily before coming to me and Katie.

Katie sits in relative silence as she explains what they need to do, calming my rear legs as she hammers in the horseshoe. Adam doesn't say anything for a while, but I do see the tears fall out of his face. After four horseshoes, I am free to walk around, but I stay with Adam, who cries on Katie's shoulders. Katie holds him tightly, saying "he'll find someone, someone who is hopefully her…"

Adam catches the last bit of her comfort, looking up in surprise, before falling into her arms again. She's a strong girl, strong as Adam, and holds him well. I move to my pen, open the gate, and watch the events unfold. My bale of hay is looking rather nice.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **A shorter chapter from our friends in District 10 this time. I always have short chapters here, I don't know why. Adam's name was created before I had any idea about theming the names, so that's why he isn't from District 4. But then you could say that he has a shepherd's hook. Anyways, new format, I want to know what you like and dislike and sit pretty for the rest. Up next, the new game maker gets** **strike 1.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	67. Johanna Mason

_**Victor #67:**_

 _ **Name: Johanna Mason**_

 _ **District: 7**_

 _ **Age during Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 067**_

 _ **Death: Indigo (134)**_

The people who have a knack for finding the victor, better than the capitol analysts, sometimes better than the victors themselves, are their mentors. They weed through the negative and find the positive, scraping at every last bit of spunk, every last fire, channeling it into a victor. It's what a victor is supposed to do, help everyone survive.

 **Acacia Quills finds out that Johanna is the victor of Hunger Games 67 quite early**

Acacia is the oldest District 7 victor, the first, and the only girl. She finds the fighters quickly, even if they don't last long, and has amassed an array of fellow victors for her victors. All guys though, never girls...it's downfall. No girl, besides her, has come home from District 7, including Savon Quills, ally to victor Mullen Jolts, and 3 time killer. She grips at the mantle one last time as her husband slowly massages her back, the same routine as it's always been. Her legacy meets in their common room-Stephen Quills and wife Vannah Quills, and their kids Savon the second, Baoley, Kirk, and Sapple. They all walk to the reaping together, where Acacia splits apart from her family as she takes to the stage.

The girl who is called, Johanna Mason, stands next to an equally scared and sniffling 15 year old boy, Douglas, where her sniffles and wails almost drown out the escort. They are all escorted to the Justice building, with Acacia saying a final goodbye to her family, her aging bones walking down the District. "Sulley," she gasps. "There was something in the girl. Did you see her step?"

"She was snivelling, the boy stood a better chance, but if you say so," Sullivan mutters. He isn't mentoring that year, it's Cypress Barksfield, but all District 7 victors are close to each other. "I'll look it over again, but I'm sure that it won't be anything."

He's about to walk off when Acacia grabs her cane and pulls him to her. "I knew you, Blight, and Cypress all were victors the moment I laid eyes on you. She walks the same way you all did, confident, unbreaking. Not as obvious as the three of you, but as a girl, I know when I see a real elegant bitch."

They close the conversation quickly as the tributes are escorted to the train station, next to the justice building, and Johanna's sniffles are heard as she hops in, helped by Cy. Douglas is cold and almost given up, but stands strong for an admittedly hilariously weeping Johanna. Acacia uses her cane to pull Johanna off of him and sends her into a separate room. "WHY?!" she screams. She stands at 17 years old, 5'6", three inches taller than Acacia's hunched over frame, but weeps like Juniper Tesidan 17 years ago. "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?!" she screams hysterically. Acacia has to whack her on the head several times before some of her personality finally comes through.

 **"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME YOU OLD BITCH?!"** she screams, crying but angry. **"I MADE A FUCKING BATSHIT FOOL WITH MY FUGLY FACE AND SHIT SPEWING-"**

One last whack on her head calms the screaming, but not the tears as much. "Johanna Mason, I had a conversation with Sullivan. I know you're tougher than you were," she says sternly. "What happened in the reapings will not be remembered after your games."

"Oh yeah, the capitol will be drinking their pissy little plastic lumber dicks and hard silicone asses to the sounds of the blade in my neck. They'll make merry little songs as they dance a jig that shows me losing my head as I die!"

"You're from up north, aren't you?" Acacia asks, unfazed by the outburst. "That's not the safest area to be, and I've only had 3 girls from there."

"And I suppose that you have had 1 girl from Victor's village, one from the village of pixies, one from the river, and 69 pieces of shit from all of District 7."

"Calm down," Acacia says, raising her voice for the first time. "There were a lot of wild fires there, I'm sure of it. Most of their children lost their parents. Sullivan filled me in, and, your mother will help move you."

It's the strangest thing that she could have said, but Acacia is pushing 80, and with her best friend dying the year before, she can't really live much longer. The words break through to Johanna, and for once she becomes calm. "What the fuck do you suggest I do?"

"Act," Acacia says. "Underestimate the crowd, we have friends in District 4, and allies in 8 and 9. They will help you, but you coming out is on your own accord. Understood?"

She nods firmly.

 **Sullivan notices several days after Acacia**

The odd thing about Victor's Village is that there is an odd amount of Adults in the off season. There's Sullivan, his wife Muriel, Blight, his wife Leavy, and Acacia's son STeven and Vannah. They play a game of poker on the idle days, which in the village happens often. The television plays in the background of their parlor as they all sit, dealing cards and waiting for the times to pass. Sullivan is the most undernoticed of the District 7 victors, not that he minds, he really didn't win in a noteworthy fashion, being a generic axe user who stood his ground, who fought nobly, but ultimately wasn't the most popular.

He sits facing the television, with his first victor-Vander 'Blight' Kurkis to his right. The replay of the reapings cuts away just in time for Sullivan to hand out the deck of cards. With Muriel on his left he holds her hand tightly as the running commentary plays. "The careers are a threat, I don't think anyone of our tributes are going to join them this time," he mutters.

"I don't think Johanna would be the most inclined to do so either way," Muriel dotes.

"Acacia said…" Sullivan says, trailing off like he normally does.

"What was that Sully?" Steven asks.

"Something about Johanna having something that could bring her out. I didn't really see it in her," he adds. "She has one member of her family left, a sickly brother named...Joshua…" He adds the last name in a hushed whisper, like he usually does, another aspect of his odd afflictions. "Sorry, thought Cypress was here. You heard about what happened to him, didn't you?"

"Darn shame…" Vannah says, putting down three of her cards as she sips from a martini. "He was one of the better forces up in Takoma, and had a bunch of friends near the lakes who would have helped us."

She doesn't add anymore. Sullivan glances up, looking at the stupid tree outfits that District 7 is in once more, Johanna being a tree and- "You're joking?!" Blight says with a harsh laughter. "Poor Douglas, look at his pants!"

There are several axes lodged in his legs, giving the illusion of a mighty oak tree that needed to fall with multiple blows. Sullivan pays him no mind as he focuses on Johanna, slumping on her partner and trying to hold back the tears. She looks as sickly as her brother as she focuses out in the audience. "I can only hope that District 4 is in a non-agressive pact with 7 this year. Johanna should go far," Leavy notes.

Johanna is quickly forgotten except for acting as a punchline, with the audience focusing on the threats from the careers, the strong boy from 9, and the wild girl from 11. Thanks to 'leaked' clips that the audience shows from the training center, Sullivan notices that Johanna isn't that much of a popular tribute, ignored by the group as a whole, but she strikes up an alliance with the timid boy from 8 and the rude girl from 9. When she leaves her private session in tears, the elevator doors don't close enough to hide Johanna's satisfied grin.

"Did you see that?" Sullivan asks Muriel. She walks in with a tray of lemonade and sandwiches before moving out to tend to the village's little hidden forest. He takes a gulp of the lemonade before rushing to his phone, calling Acacia and Cypress, finally getting confirmation on what he though before. "We just might bring someone home this year…"

 **Blight finds out around the same time as everyone else**

It's day 10 in the arena, and Blight watches with a bated breath in the town square next to Sullivan and Leavy and his children. Johanna Mason, the joke tribute, has outlasted 15 other tributes. It's been a slow year, seven deaths in the bloodbath and eight more deaths spread out thinly. The careers have all been separated, with the girl from District 1 dead and the five last careers in two separate alliances.

The boy from 4, the girl from 2, and the boy from 1 have allied, and met with the remains of Johanna's alliance. They lost the 8 boy in the bloodbath, and the two girls have largely been at an odd passive agressive friendship. Blight knows that Acacia and Cypress convinced Finnick and Lilo to enter a non agression pack, so there's no reason for District 4 to kill Johanna. The girl from 9 is taken by the boy from 1 and girl from 2, with Adele dying to the girl from 2. There were similar deals between 1 and 9 so the stud from 1 leaves it to the witch from 2.

The camera picks up on Johanna and the 4 boy's conversation. The boy, Orca, is trying to get her to run, he'll hold them off, the two of them are friends, but Johanna still has that facade up, the weak one, where she is paralyzed and can't move. Her tears fall on the floor as the girl finishes with Adele. They team up on the wrong target...Orca. Blight turns as Orca is castrated, gutted, and finally has his throat slit by the sadistic pair, who cackle before turning to Johanna.

They don't realize that Johanna has a lethal ax in her hands that she took from the cornucopia. Blight has to force the smile off his face as Johanna lets out a war cry and charges at the One boy, slamming him to the ground. She raises the axe repeatedly and slams it many, many, many times into his chest. The girl from 2 tries to flee, realizing what kind of shit she's in, but she runs backwards, stress does weird things to people.

Johanna's axe lands in her collar bone, sending the girl to the ground. She tries to fight, but Johanna Mason is an animal with unmatched rage, losing both of her friends in such a short amount of time. Johanna gets several cuts on her arms and barely dodges a fatal blow, but it's the 2 girl's cannon who fires later. She looks to the sky and screams as soon as the three cannons fire.

Blight begins a round of applause that's undoubtedly picked up by the rest of the District, who are stunned, but joyful at the prospect of bringing back a girl after so many years. There's hope, for once, and when Johanna Mason kills two more tributes, the boy from District 5 and the girl from District 10 over brutal battles, she is undeniably the victor.

 **Really, it was Cypress who first figured it out**

The last victor before Mason had a connection with her in the days before the games. They stand together as the replays of the chariots, reapings, training scores, interviews, all run. It's to him that she runs about her fears, not Acacia, but she loves all of District 7's older victors. There's still something about Johanna that reminds him of Marlenne, and he's there for Johanna most often when the nightmares plague her.

It's an odd relationship, if they can call it that. He's 38 and she's 21 by the time he dies. Johanna and Cypress were close, much like a teenage father to his equally immature child. Cypress dies in a forest fire that ravages a good portion of District 7. It's an odd coincidence that Mags of District 4 suffers a stroke that year, District 11's main fields burn down, and Woof has quite the...accident.

 **Not Even Johanna considered herself the victor**

It takes years after her victory, compounded by the numerous accidents in the 70's, before she realizes just who she happens to be. Johanna Mason knows she is the victor to Hunger Games 67 once her brother falls to an easily treatable Scarlett fever three years later, but the medicine didn't arrive in time. That year, Annie Cresta is pulled out of the arena in hysterics.

She pulls herself off the elusive market, not that she had any customers, but her 18 year old brother didn't deserve that fate either. When Cypress dies, and the funeral is held, she grabs a notebook from his now abandoned house, revealing stashes of weapons in the District, purported malcontents, alliances in the capitol, and in other Districts. She knows what she must do at that point.

Johanna Mason knows that she is a victor with her conversations with that sex symbol a couple of years ago, whom she becomes best friends with. She forms tentative alliances with DIstrict 3, with that crazy lesbian and her absentminded mentor. There are other alliances, with District 4's other victors, District 8's awkward talks, the two male victors from District 6, District 12, District 11, hell almost everyone is a rebel to an extent in the victor's center.

She brings some rebels out of the arena herself. She's an effective mentor, and definitely not one to be underestimated.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, hopps here**

 **I'm sorry if the limelight wasn't distributed evenly, but that's really how it wound up. This is also an early birthday present to TheReaper94. He's been through a lot, so I hope this constitutes as a passable present.**

 **With that, District 7 finally has their second girl come out of the arena after over half a century. This will be the last time in almost 2 decades we'll see District 7 for a while though, and Johanna is a great victoress in her own right, who made catching fire. I hope I did her justice. Up next, not a canon victor in any respect...FINALLY!**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps.**


	68. Mallius Frollel

_**Victor #68:**_

 _ **Name: Mallius Frollel**_

 _ **District: 2**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 068**_

 _ **Death: Bunny(135)**_

I sit with the papers in front of me. They pile high. The newspapers of District 2 are typically thick quality and they tend to pile up more often if we don't get rid of them, or send them back to District 7 where they can take care of the waste. A cup of coffee is tensed in my hands, slowly bringing me to alertness as I grab the top piece of paper before sitting down aimlessly.

With my heart beating, I turn on the television. My heart really hasn't stopped beating for a while, being alone makes the sound echo loudly in the room, which only seems louder due to the situation of District 2 I happen to be in. Yes, I am a victor, as the headlines of the newspapers say. I live in Victor's village, a plateau over the main town of District 2, in one house of a baker's dozen. Two of them, quite literally, belong to ghosts.

Romulus Cobalt, our District's second victor, died several weeks before my Victory. His statue is one that I find perpetually polished every time I move into the park on one of the lower terraces. Lupus Marterus, our first victor, died the year of the fabulous Finnick Odair. I'm told constantly by Brutus, who has taken up Lupus' spot as the resident 2 teddy bear, that Lupus would be proud of me, proud of him, proud.

I take another sip of the coffee. I hear dainty steps coming down the stairs. I grab the dagger I keep tucked up my sleeve before the figure walks in. "Morning," I say with a sweet grin.

Like me, my girlfriend of several months is somewhat darker than the rest of the population, but not by much. Both of us come from the part of District 2 closest to the desert, mining the harder ores of coal and copper from there before being drafted into the career academy. She has that childlike smile on her face, the one that hasn't left her for almost 25 years. She's three months older than me and is tall and strong for her age at 5' 10". Yet her voice is wispy and airy and dainty and everything that I've missed from her. "Love you," Fortunata states.

I walk up and kiss her mildly on the lips, sure that my breath still reeks of coffee. Yes, she's taller than me by 2 inches. Five foot eight in a District where boys frequently hit 72 inches. It's embarrassing to an extent but she teases me very rarely. "Newspapers are on the table if you want to see them. Off the presses, meaning not edited. So if you want the raw look before I viciously tear them apart you can go ahead," I tell her. She grabs the topmost paper and begins to read, gasping as she reads the headline.

"MALLIUS!" she shouts. I peer over her shoulder and rest my hands on her head as she slowly fiddles with the paper. "Leopold Mustang is dead," she begins to read the headline. "Six weeks after an immensely popular victory tour, Leopold Mustang has been discovered deceased, due to a battle with a vicious form of skin cancer. Best known as the first volunteer, the legendary hero from District 1 He was 83 years old at the time of his death. The funeral shall be held five days from now, and invitations are going out to all victors willing to show up."

I stand with my mouth open even as a fruit fly buzzes about. "I need to walk," comes out after an uneasy silence. "You can hold the fort down, right? I'll be skating I guess."

"Sure. I'll have to visit the mines later, but I'll be sure to lock up. Have fun Mallius."

"I'll try to," I say quietly, shutting the door behind me.

From the windows I can see her getting on the phone before walking around the house. That phone is something pretty good to use. I sigh as I hop on my skateboard. It's a weird habit I found on capitol television. I used to make my own boards out of cafeteria trays before that was disciplined out of me. My first birthday present coming out of the arena was a skateboard of my own, shipped from District 3, and engraved with the words "To another one of our victors, you deserved it. Lumin Valor."

I roll down the mountain into the park and rest under my favorite spot, Romulus' statue. He was always my favorite of the District 2 victors. And a short kid always looked up to tall idols with hopes of being just like them one day. I can't help but think that I'm somewhat closer to being like him as I hold the newspaper in my hand. I glance at the photos again-the smiling blond boy who supports his much taller yet handicapped brother. It was the side of Leo they didn't show, but still they consider him a hero.

I look again at the paper at a colored photo taken during Gerrian Tomion's victory tour. Leo's in the center with his arms around the two boys he loved the most, and Wolfgang's girlfriend is down to the side smiling with Wolfgang's arms around him. Once again, the charming Leopold is described as a hero, uniting Panem slowly but surely, and cultivating the first victor relationship with his love for many decades-Gerrian Tomion.

In the years before Gerry's death, I'd see Leo still slap him on the ass, still kiss him, still act like they did when they were teens, like me and Dash, but the age gap was more bearable. I sigh as i read the rest of the articles on Leopold Mustang. He's the first District 1 victor to die, so all surviving victors give their thoughts on the man who defined the careers. Undoubtedly Dash is there, talking about his hero…

I close the newspaper and rest my head on Romulus' statue and gaze at the clouds as they pass by. Slowly they darken and the wind picks up. There are still families strolling around, the ones that don't send their children to the Peacekeeper Academy nor the mines-aka the rich ones. I never did get them.

Of course, my thoughts bring me back to my most recent ex. Dash Candela, I don't know how he's handling it right now. Guilt festers within but I shove it down. I couldn't have known it'd've happened this year. Not for one of those. Dash calls himself fragile, and I was inclined to agree if he didn't look like the stereotypical tough and pretty career from District 1. I sigh loudly as i prop myself up once more. The rain slowly increases to a drizzle, and I decide to go home at that point.

It's when I'm skateboarding home that I stop in front of Lupus' house. Flowers and weeds dot his lawns, like they did when he was alive. I kneel in front of them, grabbing at a dandelion's petals, before slowly lowering my head to the ground. It's a pose that I find myself in most often. "I'm sorry…" I mutter, like all those years ago. The rain dripping onto the pavement sounds like...blood, dripping onto the floor. I wipe the tears from my eyes and pick up my skateboard, using it as a guard before entering my house.

Fortunata greets me at the foyer, enveloping me in a loving kiss before letting me sit on the breakfast nook. "Dash isn't taking it as well as his other friends," she notes, turning on the television. Most programming at this point is airing interviews of Leo's life as a victor, before and after, with note on how he set the standard for three (soon to be six) districts. I sigh as i face the glass armoire that holds a replica mace. I've always wanted to get rid of it...too much like my own arena.

"I'll be back," I tell Fortunata. "Going to have to call Dash."

"No flirtatious phone calls," she chides.

"You know, you are the only one for me. I thought I told you that over and over," I say, holding a laugh as she rolls her eyes. "This is a hard time for someone I consider a friend, and I'm just going to be with him."

"I was about to ask if you wereable to get some nudes from District 1. They're hot people."

"I don't see it. I only see my woman in front of me, and my woman is arguing with me about an ex. Don't worry, I'll just be in the other room. I'll see you out if you need it." She leaves after placing a gentle kiss on my cheeks, stepoing out the front door into a puddle of rain. I laugh as I hear her curse before I set to dialing Dash's number. As I hear the tone I spend the rest of my time lost in thought, gazing at a window, recalling my victims as they splash in the mud…

"Hello?" Dash warily picks up.

"Hi," I say uneasily. "How are you holding up?"

"Mallius?"

"That's me," i say curtly. I can hear him sniffle even as he tries to make a response. "Dash, I know what Leo meant to you. You okay?"

"Y-yeah," he says. He was always a sensitive person and cried a bit in his games. You wouldn't believe that he was a ruthless killer if you caught him like this, which was more than usual for a career of his caliber. "I mean, cancer was creeping up on him, and Leo fought to the end. He was my hero, don't you know?"

"If you need o cry, I'll be here," I say gently. His sniffles become louder but he tries to save his voice even as he opens his mouth. "Do-Do you want to talk face to face? We can set up the screen if we need it."

"Yep," he says quietly. The call transfers to the tiny screen accompanying the phone, and I see him, hair matted and eyes baggy, but he still tries to have a smile on his face. "Long time no see. How's the weather in District 2?"

"Rainy, dreary, I like clouds though," I say, a teasing smile at my face. "Of course you'd know. How's District 1?"

"Bright, sunny, but cool. We don't get much rain here but we water the plants and they look beautiful right now. How's Fortunata?"

"Oh, yeah. She's doing well, she sends her regards. She can't believe Leo dying either. It's something. He was your hero, wasn't he?" Dash nods as the tears flood to his eyes again, but I try to divert attention to me. "Romulus was my hero too. He died three days before the reaping, I wonder what he would have thought of me. And if you think that Leo thought any less of you because of our break up, I wouldn't think so. I think that's what eating at you, isn't it?"

He lets out a small laugh and grabs at his spiky hair. "You were the cutest guy from District 2. And the hottest, and sweetest, and my crush. And boyfriend. I thought that I'd be more like Leo I guess. But, I guess I need to move on. I'm working on it, but I don't think I'm getting married for a while, just buzz around for a bit I suppose. ARe you coming to the funeral?"

"If you want me there. Just as a friend, I'll send my regards to you all as well."

"Friends. Yeah, I can live with that. I guess I might as well. Thanks for the call. It means a lot coming from you. And I suppose if we're to be friends, we can call more often?"

"Sounds fine with me."

* * *

The year of hunger Games 68 featured the death of Romulus Cobalt, aged 83. He is survived by his great grand nephews, Erastius Cobalt and Styx Cobalt, and great great grand niece Nyctus. Forever will he be known as District 2's second victor, and still holds the record for tallest victor and tribute at 6' 6".

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Weird format, I'm sure of it. I'm also trying out something new for the deaths when they come around. Let me know the general thoughts of it so far.**

 **Remember how I said that Mallius was the last non canon victor? That changes, with the boy who won with a three next chapter.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps.**


	69. Shawn Baker

_**Victor #69:**_

 _ **Name: Shawn Baker**_

 _ **District: 8**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 069**_

 _ **Death: Sheen (127)**_

" _Just get the fuck away from me!" Alana shouts._

 _She storms off in a hurry, realizing that her shout has probably alerted a tribute to her. She takes away the packet of jerky and runs off. I almost shout after her before turning around, I can't have Lache looking at me like an idiot. Besides, that gift was for her, and I don't need it since I'm very thirsty. Another earthquake rumbles through the arena and opens up a stream. I see some other rocks collapse around me, and some buildings over yonder collapse. I hear a girl scream before her cannon fires. I'd learn later that night, it was Alana from District 10._

When I wake up from my dreams for the first time, I'm still in the hospital bed, covered in blankets, shivering. I find that my long-ish frame of six foot three and a half barely touches the foot of the bed. Of course, I'm lanky, and can't hold onto the heat much longer, and try to wrap my slender frame over the blanket. "Someone's up," a guy with a higher tone of voice says. He turns on the light and slowly walks to me.

"You look...familiar…" is all that I manage to say. "Is it true? I'm out of the games, right?"

"Y-y-yeah," he says hesitantly, stuttering. He grabs a remote and turns on the heater, allowing me to take off the blanket as he sits awkwardly next to me. "Woof isn't her-here, but I volunteered to take care oo-of you. You kind of were t-t-tossing in your sleep. Nigh-nigh-nightmares?"

I nod tiredly as he takes off his massive overcoat. To my shock, he looks well built on his short and tanned frame, definitely stronger than me, and probably a capable fighter. I try to break a smile as he rubs at his muscular arms. "Thanks I suppose. My name is Shawn Baker. I'm 16 years old, from District 8, and apparently the victor of Hunger Games sixty-nine," I say. My brother used to tell me that introducing myself would help with composure, and calm me down ever so much.

"A-A-alejandro Yuss-sstriv, 21 years old, District-t-t Five. Nice to m-m-meet you," he says tenderly. His voice is on the higher end of the spectrum, I would have expected something deeper for a guy of his build. And there's a weird clacking sound as he says the 'st' sound, but he tends to stutter even more. "I won f-five years ago. I-In a t-t-tundra, so i g-guess I'm st-stuck like this."

He looks pretty strong, tanned, conventionally good looking if a little short. Having dealt with body insecurities for my life, I kind of am still jealous of his strong build. I ask Alejandro about his personal life, exchaning details with him about our girlfriends, siblings, family, and it's just very easy to talk to him. I still find myself clutching at my wrist despite it being on the healing process, and look down my gown to check if there's any bleeding, but Alejandro says that it's a normal thing to be worried, since he never takes off his shirt.

I let out a yawn and curl up on my pillow. "Thanks for being here. I guess thank you for being a friend too?" I ask with a slight yawn.

"Friend-s-s-s, sure," he says with a grin. "I hope t-t-his means 5 and 8 can be al-l-l-lies. I d-d-d-did li-k-k-ke talking to y-y-ou. But-t-t I t-t-think that n-n-next time is L-Levora's t-turn. He's a nice guy too. M-My b-b-best friend. I-I-I h-hope you like him. G-g-g-ood night."

 _Three days later, two more cannons have fired. Alana was my ally, and I'm shocked that she left me so soon. Sure we fought, but I kind of wanted her here. Sure we broke apart immediately after the bloodbath, but she helped me through it, and I can't help but blame myself for her death. I move along a crack in the ground, careful not to move too fast in the heated shade of the mountainous desert. I find a place to sleep for the day and set up a trap by mutilating my backpack, setting some of my fruit out, and hiding in an alcove. The heat forces me to take off my shirt, leaving me in thin white underwear as the sun beats down._

 _I wake up almost an hour later to the sound of a cannon firing. I see almost a grizzly sight, one of the tributes from District 11 with her neck snapped, a lash mark down her throat, and her fingers curled at the ropes. She was mine. Scared, I grab at my supplies and try my best to leave, with the sounds of a landslide coming from where I just left._

The lights open up, and I find myself in the presence of a team of three capitol doctors. They don't talk, just insert a needle into me, and leave, fliping a sign to say that I'm available for visitors. A short boy, shorter than Alejandro, walks in with yellow skin and a shivering frame. He smiles lightly before giving me a painting. "Thank you," I say warmly.

"No problem," he says. To my shock, his voice is also higher than I thought it would be. He accidentally drops one of his pencils and bends over to pick it up-and I can't help but notice his feminine frame. "I'm Levora Taptrix. District 6. I thought you were a pretty fun victor. And smart. And sane."

The way he says District 6 is a bit off, he says it with an odd tremble in his voice, and I'll have to figure it out later. But I find that he's a respectful dude, but I can't help but notice his eyes wander. "Hey, are your eyes naturally flighty?" I ask, kind of concerned.

"Hmm?" he trills, grabbing at a pencil while tapping his arm with his...long fingernails oddly enough. "Sorry. You have a nice body for a guy. I've really wanted one since I was...10...I think. It was so long ago." He pulls down his hood and nods his head, surprisingly feminine for a guy his age, I'd judge. "I was actually...born, a girl. Don't hate me for it...please…"

Tears actually well to his eyes and I hold out a box of tissues for him to take. "That's different...but..I don't see a problem with it. You're a nice guy, don't worry about it, I won't really judge anymore."

I let a smile tease at the corners of my lips as Levora smiles timidly. "It's so hard doing that every time seeing someone new. I've been with Alejandro as a friend for a while, and I'd say that i see us becoming friends later. That'd be nice."

We talk for a little bit longer and then it's time for me to take my medication. I fall asleep after I take my medication, so Levora leaves the room quietly and shuts the door.

 _The day after I hear the 11 girl's cannon fire, there's a large rumbling and I look behind me to see a massive amount of rocks tumble from the mountain into the desert. I'm barely fast enough to escape it. I hide when I hear a boy, a strong boy, come down the mountain with blood on his hands, and splintered. I recognize him from District 6. A career girl spots him from somewhere else, and chases him, but he turns the tables and kills her. Slowly I move away, vaguely aware of the cannon firing. It takes a while for the hovercraft to come down. And by the time I do, I see that it's the girl from 1 who died, and the boy from District 5. Slowly the numbers have been falling. Hopefully we'll make it out soon enough._

 _My dream bleeds into the next day. It's a rest day, mercifully, and I move further and further out of the mountain range. Slowly I move, finding a pond, and eating a fruit. I shove plenty of fruits into my intact backpack, burying it under the string and twine for traps. I keep moving, met by a rattle snake. When I manage to ward it off by chopping its head off, I get my first sponsor present, a lighter. Invaluable for the nights ahead._

 _2 days later is when action strikes up again. This time, I find that I'm involved. The young career from District 4, I think he's the same age as I am, faces me with his clothes half torn off and wielding a massive hatchet. He growls as I try to step away. I grab a set of twine from my pack, holding it arms lengths away warily. He charges at me first, swinging at my elbow and causing a massive gash. He takes a long time to stand up again, and I still tower over him even if he is average height. I try to push him on the ground but his balance is great and he almost throws the hatchet into my side before I twist away. I wrap the twine around his neck and hold on, slowly forcing him down to the ground as I tighten my grip. "So much for twine getting me a three," I joke to relieve the tension. Two parachutes fall down, antiseptic and bandages in one, and more water in another. I move away, hearing his cannon fire in the distance._

I wake up from the nightmare screaming. Woof is there, but I can't stay awake for much longer. He holds my hand as I flail about, slowly rubbing his hand on my forehead. "Calm...Calm…." he says, talking like he does to most of his dogs. "It'll be fine. One more day of recovery, and you'll be fine. Just sleep. We'll be here." I fall alseep to his soothing voice while he turns on the television, hearing an audible sigh one last time.

 _My dream this time lasts long. The tributes in the sky begin to blur into one. After my kill of the boy from 4 I face the girl from District 3 and she dies just like the boy from 4. Someone else kills the girl from District 4 the next day. I'm not sure who it is, but at that point the boy from 1, the boy from 2, the girl from 5, the boy from 6, me, and the girl from District 12 are left alive. The next day passes and I hear a cannon go off. Then I hear an all too familiar rumbling. The avalanche spills into a town that I try to run into, and I barely make it by diving into a chasm. That night, I see the boy from District 6 and the girl from District 12 alive._

 _The next day is the finale. It's 14 days of hunger Games, and 4 of us are alive to face the finale. We are driven to the center of the arena by a series of earthquakes that causes avalanches and rockslides all around us. I lose my backpack with my twine, and i'm forced to make a weapon out of my shirt, and a rock. I know it won't give me protection, but hopefully one of the cannon fires earlier meant that one of the career boys died._

 _I make it to the center of the arena, where a building used to stand, now it's just rubble. I know that the non agression pacts fade at the final 8, so if I face the boy from District 2, I'm going to have to face him...camaraderie not withstanding. The golden boy from District 1 catches the boy from 2 off guard, but the 2 boy recovers enough and faces his former ally in an honorable battle. It's long, long enough for me to plan. The earthquake occurring right now is cover enough to sneak up on the victor of this battle. The boy from 2 snaps the 1 boy's neck easily, like a peach, and the 2 boy stands up, heaving heavily. He doesn't see me strangling him with the remains of my shirt. He has his knife with him still, and manages to slash at my sides heavily. I'm bleeding along my ribs, my stomach, my arms, and a bit in my head before the boy finally falls onto the rocks. I can't stand victorious for too long, the blood rushes, and the earthquake makes a temporary tomb for me._

When I wake up, Woof, Cecelia, Levora, Alejandro, and a victoress from...2 I think...is there to greet me. "Doctor said you're cleared. Interview tonight, but first, we think that we should introduce you to the rest of us," Cecelia says, cradling a tiny but swolen belly. "This is Lyme Phoridan, my best friend, from District 2."

The imposing woman smiles, but it almost looks like a grimace, and I'm kind of stricken into silence. "Welcome back kid. There's some stuff that we're all going to talk about in the lounge, and well, you'll probably have to see some of them for yourself. Welcome to the club."

I grip a pillow as Alejandro and Levora bring me up. It's still a bit wobbly along the sides, and I wonder how I'm going to carry Lache like I used to when a magazine header catches my eye. **Outrage over Titus, cannibal of Hunger Games 69, overshadows victory interview.** I think I can live with that word...overshadow...

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **I really had a lot of fun with this chapter, but I can't be too sure if lumping in both the guy who won with a 3 and Titus into the same games was the best idea. Still, I hope that this format was interesting enough for all of you considering this is one of my favorites, probably the second best of the decade. Guess who was my favorite chapter.**

 **Anyways, next chapter we move onto the seventies, a decade marked by instability, the death of many longtime favorites, and guess who starts it off?**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	70. Annette 'Annie' Cresta

_**Victor #70;**_

 _ **Name: Annette "Annie" Cresta**_

 _ **District: 4**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 070**_

 _ **Death: "Emmeline" (94), Anemone(136)**_

 **A Look into the Minds of District 4 Mania: a transcript by Lyme Phoridan, for Finnick Odair**

My Dear Friend Finnick asked me to run this study at the closest convenience during Hunger Games 73. It would be a while since the two of us mentored at the same time again, but I would talk with some other other victors in the years. The first conversation is a conversation with Finnick alone, on the behalf of his beloved Annie Cresta.

 _Finnick:_ Thank you for doing this, I don't know why it really happens mroe often than it should. We always seem to lose ourselves during the games

 _Me:_ Finnick, I know just as well as you do why this happens, which means no fucking thing since I'm not from 4 and have not seen many cases of insanity with our victors

 _Finnick:_ Why are you so formal?

 _Me:_ I'm putting this in my journal, so that future investigators may as well find my journals. And it helps keep a strictly neutral outlook when talking with friends. So please, do elaborate

 _Finnick:_ Annie. She's the worst, and I mean the worst. Polyp left with more of herself, Cane and Andromeda had more to atone to with their loves. Lilo's pretty violent if it comes down to it, and when she isn't with Kronk she's the worst. Mags and Current and Perry are the only sane ones left. I can't call myself sane since i'm apparently the killer with the highest proportion to my age. I have the most kills, and how old was I? [It is at this point Finnick takes a deep breath. I hold out a tray of candies before he pulls out a tin for himself, just full of sugar cubes, one of which he pops eagerly]

 _Me:_ I couldn't help but notice that back then. Are sugar cubes your way of coping with the pain?

 _F:_ No, not just that. I have a spare strand of rope with me. It's never longer than a foot and can't really be made to a full circle with a little hanging off. [I'm aware of his implications. I'm sure that his words are monitored closely, even in his casual clothing, then he continues]. Nothing can help Annie. Nothing really can. I help her, that's the extent. I love her. I can't spend any time without my best friend especialyl in a state like this. Birken takes care of her, but not as much as I do, and his life is just beginning, so I'm telling him to enjoy it.

 _M:_ Is this Birken a friend of the two of you?

 _F:_ Of course. Why else would I let him near Annie? He's as close to the two of us as Annie was to her grandmother before she died Hunger Games 69. Annie has no family besides the other victors, me, some of the trainers, Epson and Birken. I haven't seen my sister in a long time either…

[I know the truth of his statement, how he was able to smuggle her off to the outskirts District 11, closer to freedom, closer to will. His parents weren't so lucky, and very few people have escaped the Districts. At this point I guess that she's probably somewhere to lakes around District 13, remaining as low note as possible. He continues]

 _F:_ her arena wasn't the best. It was a cold arena with a bunch of wet would, making targets. Being in there with our other best friend was terrible. Halbend volunteered to bring his family out of the clam breeders. [He proceeds to divert into a spiel about clam breeding] I was hopeful he'd make it out before he was decapitated.

 _M:_ My apologies. Halbend was a worthy competitor and he was robbed of his chance of victory. [Of course, I'm aware of the glare he briefly sends at me. I'm sure that even the microscopic camera on my shoulder in my clothing catches it. Yes, that's how the Capitol is able to keep tabs on most of us, our stylists, and well, at least District 3 is good at covering up]

 _F:_ Annie...she slaughtered his killer. I didn't know what she'd do. The blood covered her hands under at least a centimeter of skin by the time she finished. It was ghastly. Then she screeched into the jungle. No one followed her. She went into a cave and I was able to nurse her with food, but it wasn't enough…

[Finnick is close to tears, and I make a decision to cut the conversation with him off. After having a lengthy amount of exposition from my close friend I continue to support him, and this is where the conversation stops being formal. I dismiss him of his causes and his let the conversation run much more smoothly. I do learn that while nightmares are common in his household, it's usually Annie's nightmares every single night. She can't step foot in water deeper than 10 feet-a far cry from what her grandmother used to dive in when scavenging ghost wrecks for some of their caverns. In turn I tell him about the cases I investigate, telling him how I once escaped a harrowing collapse by burying myself in soft shit. He gets a laugh out of the statement, and leaves in a good mood, undeterred by his new client]

I would wait 3 days before seeing Finnick again. At this point the final five of Hunger Games 73 has been decided and the mentoring victors are being interviewed heavily. I am forced to substitute for Brutus as he gets interviewed more and more often each day. One day, I decide to talk to Polyp Chelle

 _Vi:_ Sorry, you aren't going to get a word out of her.

 _L:_ My apologies. To whom am I talking to for this moment? [I have to resist having the coldness seep out of my tongue. I mentioned previously that it was Polyp who killed my sister, under Skipper]

 _Vi:_ It's Victoria. Who else would it be? Her? Him? I get that you like them all but sorry, you should know that when we're in circumstances like this, it's me.

[Personal biases aside I talk to Victoria. Polyp had a peculiar case of disassociative identity disorder. I like Polyp, but her alters are a bit too much at points. It's a shame that I can never catch her during the Hunger Games. It's always Victoria, Skipper, and Volga.]

 _L:_ Please do tell me if I may happen to offend you with my common vernacular, but how would you describe District 4 mania?

 _Vi:_ [her eyes wander my frame...worth noting that all identities are able to have different sexualities in addition to varying genders. I guess Victoria always considered me attractive but I can't be sure.] It's been happening a lot lately. Lilo, me, Finnick, and now Annie. I am not a superstitious person, but sometimes I find writings from Skipper about the tales he spins. Something about being cursed by a lost love's hand, a smile closing the sanity until a love was finally in turmoil as much as the tribute. Or some shit like that.

 _L:_ Several tributes have fallen in love in the arena. I blame abusive parents, hardships, lack of contact, and generally lack of preparedness.

[An avox passes by with tea. Victoria reaches out for it, and allows herself to lapse. Apparently one of her triggers has passed. She returns with a bit of a wider smile and gaze.]

 _S:_ Such a weird cabin yer in my fine lady. Might as ask if the sea is more stable than usual?

 _L:_ [Skipper, Polyp's very first Alter. The bisexual sea captain, juxtaposed against the straight Polyp, Asexual Volga, and Lesbian Victoria.] Sir, please. WE are having an interview about your District's mania, do you have any particular knowledge that may in fact help?

 _S:_ Is it about that lass? Annette? Ah, lovely girl, always partial to my stories when I told them at night. And I guess the girl respected her male role models in life, I s'pose. We had mighty good time training whenever i'd be teaching knots. Yep, nothing like being swarmed by a bunch of teens to bring back memories of the ocean for a homesick-seasick mate, and who knows some booty lies within.

[I take a moment to process the last sentence…]

 _L:_ So what did you train for? I would assume weapons and combat as per usual. In District 2 and 1 if I may compare, we do have programs for opportunities of killing if necessary and helps harden the selected volunteers

 _S:_ But that 'be treason! One does not kill a brother who may have saved you in the ocean. The ocean 'tis a lovely place, but can easily be taken away. Now if you'll excuse me, I do believe that a cannon fired.

[I run with him to the mentoring center, where he lapses into Victoria for a quick moment, working to send a final weapon to the girl from District 4, but it is to no avail when the wolves finally tear her apart. It's a grizzly scene and I leave to mourn on my own. The final 4 has been in the top, and I have to wonder if the game makers are being called out for this accident. At thsi point the deaths are to be held with the final tributes, not the mutts.]

As it would be I would only have time to interview both of District 4's mentors. While most of them travel to the capitol, I find that Andromeda has been staying at home with her wife and helps run the training center. Andromeda lost her love in the arena, but surely the curse cannot be from her.

No, curses are real, but they have no place in the investigative journals. Ever since Annie won the Hunger Games, Mags has been coming to the Capitol less and less. That year, she had a stroke, when she was calling Finnick just after the Games. From what I could tell, she just finished a sentence and keeled over, forcing Finnick to call her large legacy to care for her. She recovered, but isn't going to be mentoring anymore. It's been 3 years since that incident. She is a strong woman so she's survived for quite a while. As a capitol darling then she would be healed more often than some other victors. Btu she stays in libraries sipping away and being with sleepy and quiet lives...but a rebel is never quiet, and she still works, slower, but with some doctors who have defected to our cause.

The odd thing about Annie's year was a number of disasters that befell other districts. A freak outbreak of chicken pox in District 7 killed Acacia Quills, the first victoress, and also crippled Joshua Mason for the next onslaught of Scarlett fever. I attend ACacia's funeral, where her daughter is several plots away with her husband's stone nearby. SEveral reports of arson plague District 11 even before the Hunger Games, a major mine collapse very early in the beginning of the year makes headlines for the capitol for 3 hours, and several farms report floodings. From what i hear, that year is also when Woof gets injured saving a girl from a collapsing roof, only to fall harshly onto concrete, leaving his head simple and addled.

There are many weird things about the year Annie Cresta wins. It's the year when the lady killer falls in love when the arena splits at the seams, when Panem is rocked to the core. And it still pales in comparison to what happened the year of the quarter quell.

* * *

 _The year of Hunger Games 70 features the death of the first female victor of the History of the Hunger Games. Acacia Quills perished at 83 years old due to chicken pox. She is survived by an immense legacy, and is buried with her daughter and husband._

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **The format may be a bit weird here, but I wanted to revisit Lyme for a bit of world building and a bit of character development. I hope that Annie is able to get some justice established in this format, but she actually gets her happy ending I'd ration, and well it is explained in Finnick's chapter.**

 **Hopefully, the next 5 or 6 chapters can come out swimmingly enough so that I may be able to publish my SYOT come summer. And there are quite a bit that I must do before establishing the scene. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	71. Dash Candela

_**Victor #71;**_

 _ **Name: Dash Candela**_

 _ **District: 01**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 071**_

 _ **Death: Shale (140)**_

Calling Dash Candela the softest District 1 victor isn't much of an understatement to him. It's fine by his mark, being in a league with Zephyr and Polyp (as Polyp) is okay, since Dash knows that they're strong victors (or aspects of victors) in their own rights. Unlike them, who are tender but never shed a tear, he cries. He cries the most out of the careers.

 **He cries when his parents beat him**

Even if he hasn't seen his parents in forever and a half ago, the tears still come a bit as he remembers their scathing words.

Lusa Candela was always angry at everything, and always screaming at someone. Usually it was him and Angel. His sister, who he'd never let see the horrors of the District, Angel Candela was the light in Dash's life. She still is now, the last link to his long gone family. Lusa Candela had a favorite target, Angel. She'd scream at her daughter when she didn't want to learn about being pretty and making make up and putting on clothes.

Her ex girlfriend and now friend would come over often, trashing her neighbors and spreading rumors and just being mean. The casual slaps on the forehead that his mother's ex gave him usually sent headaches, but Lusa says to suck it up, they're friends, and to treat her like family.

Covet Candela, the breadwinner of the family, was always tired, and grumpy. He takes to the bottle and ignores his family. Whenever Dash wants to talk, a push sends him out of the room. It becomes routine really, him and Angel trying to talk to their parents, only to mutually be pushed away.

He endures this for only 8 years. The career consultants come to his school and deem him worthy enough to join the academy. When he tells the news to his parents they try to guilt trip him, but when that fails they let him go. "Don't cry to us when you wash out, don't expect us here when you need a shoulder to cry on, don't expect them to hold your hand," they say. He is sent away without much more from his parents.

It's a full 3 years before he sees Angel. Angel is taken to the orphanage. Sometimes Dash visits her. There, they cry.

 **He cries when he gets hurt**

Dash expects it to be easier when he arrives at the Y.E.C. The dozens of brave young people, like him, working so hard to get a common goal, even if the odds are slim. He excels just like the others in one area. He's wicked with a gladius, mastering it by the time he turns 10 years old. It's an extension of him, an extension that he can use to fight back. He pours himself into his favorite gladius, hilted with jewels and sharp pointed, it's heavy and deadly.

But he's a bit of a late bloomer, so to say, when all of the other boys are two inches taller than he is but several times stronger. Whenever he spars with them it's always a hard truth that he's slammed on the mat hard. Sometimes thee friends of his opponents tell him to break his arm. They never do, but the pain underneath is enough to cause him to cry, and it fuels the psychopaths brewing in the District.

Even after he turns 12, accepted into the esteemed and more intense training, he still cries. He's a fun target for the boys who like putting flair into their beatdowns, inspired by the latest male victor, and the most influential victor of their generation, Gloss Broach. Gloss is the most hands on when it comes down to killing, and he says he likes seeing flair, so Dash has to endure much more when he's beat down. He doesn't like giving it out either.

When he shoots up in height in a year by almost a foot, reaching a victor standard height of six feet even, his muscles catch up, and he's not really a target again.

He still cries.

 **He cries when he loses his virginity**

Granted it's just a one time thing, with a strong girl who he has gotten real close friends with, though after their night together what they'd have would fizzle out. Estrella Chavres is beautiful, 16 (and therefore a year older), and drop dead gorgeous. Dash is the target of jealousy, but so long as they have what they have with each other then he could be fine. He doesn't cry for a while.

That night still burns a scathing mark in his memory. He loves her, but he doesn't know to what extent, while she's all over him. When they have a video they watch on the broken love of Venice Sagrada in the dark of the night, she stops the video, holding his hand tightly, and kisses him. They've shared kisses before, but it's Estrella's passion that usually carries them through. She pulls up close to him, dragging a finger down his muscled torso.

He pulls her close, he knows what he has to do, but even if he's hard, he's still a bit hesistant. He voices his concerns but she reassures him by tracing his pecs, and shedding his shirt. Dash is sure he wants this, he's sure, but there's something a little off as they both climax, her more notably, and as he lays on his bed looking at the ceiling, she packs up, thanking him for the night. Even then, Dash would know that it was something of an end to their relationship.

As he thinks about it, the tears well to his eyes, and he hides under the blanket. The mattress is replaced the next day, no questions asked.

 **He cries as he finally proves himself as the worthy volunteer**

His final fight before the three worthy candidates are chosen for a possible volunteership is against a second placer, almost a washout, but he has to defeat him with enough poise and elegance to earn the approval of 6 out of 10 current victors. The fight is actually anticlimactic, and Dash knows that his fate is in his heroes, the men and women who have bested the horrors of the hunger games and achieved the true panemian dream. Still he shivers as he looks up to the panel of the men and women.

When the other victors cast five votes immediately, he waits for one more. Cashmere, Adonis, Venice, Desire, and Leopold are the ones who need to vote. With five votes already cast, he waits for one of them to finally turn the tides in his favor. He hopes that it's Leopold. The hero of the District, the most revolutionary victor of them all, the first volunteer, his hero, and Dash wants him to vote for his advancement in the volunteership program.

In a second, Leopold turns his vote to yes, and he falls to the ground, exhausted, and confident. It's the first time that he recalls that the tears are of joy.

 **He cries to form his noble image**

Interview night always starts with the boy from district One. With Leopold as his mentor he rehearses what has to be done, what has to be said, how to grab the audience just right, and how to put on a show. Dash knows that Leo will be in the audience, so all he has to do is find him, and the words should just fall out naturally.

And naturally they fell. He becomes a hit, an immediate favorite, second only to the girl from District 4 and the boy from District 2. Maybe it's his charm, or his awkward stutters, but District 1 always is a satisfactory showing. With District 1 they almost never expect humble tears to fall, honored to participate.

Leopold tells him that he was a success immediately after the interviews. Dash couldn't care, so he runs to his room and falls asleep, unsure if he'll live to the next day

 **He cries for his victims**

Even after the finale, with the boy from District 10 at his feet, dead from blunt force trauma, the tears never seemed to stop during the Hunger Games. He was told to put flair in them. Stupid Gloss.

But he can't blame him. No. He's allowed to cry all he wants when he heals at the insistence of several doctors. They run through his head as he looks at his favorite games, Mallius Frollel's games, his crush. With the girl from district 6 dying in the bloodbath at his hands, the girl from District 10 three days later, the boy from district 5, the boy from District 3, then the girl from District 2, the boy from district 4, and...the boy from 10. His kills are oddly similar to the victor 3 years before, even if Mallius killed with a mace and Dash used a sword.

The tears dry in time for him to get on stage, proud and beaming at his victory. Tears of joy begin to flow once more as he choked out his final words of interview, stating he was honored at surviving, honored at participating, honored to be just like his hero. When pried for additional words, he stated he was glad that he could now have a chance at asking Mallius out. The audience loved him.

 **He cries at the death of his heroes**

Though the deaths of victors are at least several years apart, Dash should have known that the 70's would have had the deaths of some major icons in the world of the Hunger Games. Already Delly Dicer, Lupus Marterus, Torrent Swell, Romulus Cobalt, and Acacia Quills have met their ends, after establishing themselves as immortal parts of the Hunger Games.

Leopold took this one the hardest. After hearing of Gerrian's latest heart attack, he took Dash with him on the next train to District 9. For the week before Gerrian died, Dash could hear the final declarations of love as Gerry waited slowly on his deathbed, surrounded by his love and whatever legacy he had in District 9. The tears were loud, but gentle. Gerrian called Dash over the night of his death, wishing him luck, and to go for whatever it was that he wanted with Mallius, as he was always a cute lad. With barely contained tears, Dash left the room and let Gerrian talk to his love for one last time. 2 months and 3 days after reaping day, Gerrian Tomion of District 9 peacefully passed away.

There was much mourning in District 9.

 **He cries as his tributes die**

The next year is his first year mentoring, and for the first several weeks he's having the time of his life, when the sponsorships are rolling, and everything just seems to be going right. He's got a boyfriend too, a celebrity boyfriend, and he wishes that he could rub it in the faces of the senior Candelas. It all goes downhill after the boy from District 3 starts his trap.

Then his tribute, a charming young man who captured the eyes of all little ladies in the audience, gets locked in a cell. That stupid electrician, charming and good looking in his own right, but not a career, locks him in the cell, and has him trapped ffor three agonizing days, releasing him when patrol mutts finally get him. He's mauled to death...and the kill is given to the 3 boy.

In the long 5 weeks of the Hunger Games that year, the victor is an outlier, even among the honorable pseudo careers and careers. Dash cries openly, and hate only boils for the victor of that year.

 **He cries when his heart is broken**

That year isn't a good year for him. Even with another career victory, he can't smile when Mallius breaks up with him. It's gentle at the very least, but Mallius isn't a person to comfort, though he does know that Dash is hurt. He cries on Mallius' shoulder, apologizing, but nothing brings them back together.

 **He cries as his hero dies**

Leopold's death was the unfortunate byproduct of years of skin cancer. He spent a lot of time in the sun in his youth, but his death still rocks the career districts. Mallius is the first to call him after Leo's death. "How are you holding up?" he asks after a while.

"Could be better. How are you?" he replies through tears that he wipes away/

"Alright, I suppose. I'm heading for the funeral, if that's any comfort."

"Yeah. I haven't seen you in a while either, so hopefully we can reconnect?"

"Sounds like a plan," Mallius says with an awkward smile. "I'll see you then."

"Give your girl my best wishes," he says.

* * *

The year of Hunger Games 71 had Dash Candela bring home the victory for District 1.

Gerrian Tomion of the eighth Hunger Games perished in his home due to a heart attack. He was surrounded by his loved ones when he died, including his long time love, Leopold Mustang.

Cypress Barksfield of District 7 and the 49th Hunger Games perished due to a forest fire. He has no established legacy to speak of.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **It's a mediocre chapter I'm sure, but I'm currently working on a major project so that's been eating up a lot of my time. I hope you like dash. I'll try to get these next couple of chapters out at least once a week**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	72. Jake Funtus

_**Victor #72;**_

 _ **Name: Jake Funtus**_

 _ **District: 3**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 072**_

 _ **Death: Bingo (139)**_

I've never been one to be comfortable riding in vehicles, but the train ride home has been the best ride I've ever had. See, unlike the 96% of others who were sent on the first train ride, I ride on the return trip just like a fortuitous 4%. Fat luck it is, considering i had to kill 5 times more than I would have liked to. I'm not the only one riding home, Beetee Latiers and Wiress Casio have made this journey many more times per year and Pocanifure Weld has escorted her favorite District to and fro since the first quarter quell.

As I rest in the main living room holding a glass of coffee...which is very good...I turn to face the television, more than likely crafted in my home District of District 3. What else happens to be showing rather than my Hunger Games? With a sigh, I try to dull myself by focusing on the cup of brown liquid in my cup. Wiress Casio, my mentor, sits on the opposite side of the room, fiddling with a breadboard to make it send a message. According to my mentor, her mentor usually sits in the cargo hold, talking to the coffins, and I know that he's probably talking to Meme, the poor 12 year old chosen for this year.

I turn to the television, where a daytime host is talking about my first kill, the boy from District 1, two weeks into the Hunger Games. I keep him in a cell for a prolonged time with a sword and some raw electricity. He died at 10th, three days after I first locked him up. There's a quick interview with some of his fans who profess their undying devotion and how…. "THE BOY FROM 3 SHOULD HAVE DIED IN HIS PLACE! WE FOUND THE WRONG TREASURE!"

One of the girls manages to drop her gold plated purse at that statement and gets her wig dirty in the process, to which she freaks out to her boyfriend as he applies more makeup to his face tattoo. The camera cuts back to the daytime talk show host as they glance over my second kill, the girl from District 6 at eighth place. They play a bit of her interview, they said she was going to make it home for her brother, her boyfriend, and then they show her frying in one of the electrically charged cells I've built as a trap. "I LOVED THAT KILL!" a father of three shouts from the city streets. I tune out how he'd bet with his family which of the five weakest districts would bring someone home.

The rest of the show before the commercial break is a quick overview of Districts 3,5,6,10, and 11 before returning to a quick advert of a computer that pours your own glass. I sip at my coffee and the programming goes back to me. The boy from District 10 was my third kill and probably the hardest. He was a strong rancher like 10's latest Victor, so I did wind up hurt from only several punches. It was only after I see him fall from the second story of the indoor courtyard that I see fear in the 6th place finisher.

For my next kill, the girl from District 4, I find that she is regarded as the most boring. Still, it didn't stop me when I found her broiled husk a mere 10 feet away. Then the monster from District 2 is on the screen, actually looking nervous as he fights with the techie from District 3, not knowing that the temperature monitor was an angry street fighter who had the wit to hide.

Once I throw the boy into the cell door, ending the hunger games, I force myself to remember the divisiveness of my victory. The underdog underdog fans, which form 35% of capitol Hunger Games supporters, love me. Then the 45% of devoted career supporters want my head on a stake while the fans of 7,8, and 9 care less. I grab a second cup of coffee once the program ends.

With the coffee, my mind races, but even then I spend a lot of time dwelling. I don't know what my family would do with me. As the only boy, I'm supposed to be the primary breadwinner, so I guess I have that settled down. I'm not too sure what my parents would do right now. I sip the coffee again as I think about my father, slowly going blind after assembling the piddling microchips. My mother would probably be still cleaning, working with the chemicals in order to combine. I think they would move in with me.

Of my two sisters, Silicia is probably the reason we live the way we are. She's a gentle 12-year-old, and artistic, but her love letter, however well written, went to her first crush, a girl. Being homosexual in the District is enough to alienate a family, Her reputation was entirely destroyed when that love letter came to light, and all of our reputations were tarnished for raising such a blemish in society. Her reputation was entirely destroyed when that love letter came to light, and all of our reputations were tarnished for raising such a blemish in society. Rumor has it that they're even more likely to enter the Hunger Games, but I hope misfortune isn't cruel enough to strike our family twice. 19-year-old Gertrude, she'd probably be in with us, if only until she gets married. She's been trying to be with her boyfriend, a biomedical engineer trying to send some pills to the capitol.

I jump as someone sits next to me. Of course, it's Pocanifure Weld, District 3's self-proclaimed biggest fan. She started at a very young age of 19 mentoring for District 3, younger than Burell, who is one of the youngest victors and has been our escort even after Burell died. She takes the coffee cup from my hand and places it onto the glass table, probably from District 1, before hugging me tightly. "I'm so glad you made it out!" she screeches for the hundredth time since leaving the infirmary. "I knew that Wiress and Beetee would have Burell's legacy for so long!"

She's old, at least by District 3 standards, at 66 years old. At five foot nine I'm considered tall for District 3, a bit like Wiress' father, but even she stands two inches taller than I do, even without heels. She says one of the reasons that she loves District 3 is that the tributes are always so small and cute. "P-P-P-Pocanifure…" I choke. "Coffee…" I make a grab at my coffee and she backs off.

"Burell would be so proud of us! You are the third victor I have seen come out of the arena! LUCKY ME!" she shouts enthusiastically. District 3 has realized that her eagerness is due to her naivety, she loves the District and thinks we are the best. She tries just as hard as Burell to bring us out, becoming a secondary mentor for all of us, and has worked so far, helping bring me, Wiress, and Beetee out of the arena.

"Yeah, lucky you," I awkwardly chuckle, tightening my grip on the tall glass of coffee. She sits with a beaming smile as she fidgets. For an elderly mentor, she has so much energy, but I suppose that that is typical of capitolitans of this day and age.

"I'm going to miss working for District 3!" she shouts. "I love District 3 and I still will sponsor but I hit my lucky number of victors, and they're the best three victors I've ever seen!" Pocanifure trills. There are tears in her eyes but she continues to smile, it looks a bit uncanny but being in District 3 I guess I can get used to her almost ever-present smiles.

She moves to talk to Beetee, who mentored for this year and gives me a quick but crushing hug. I put the cup of coffee down on the table and sit next to my own mentor. Her breadboard programming is almost done by the time I sit down next to her. "Who's that for?" I ask quietly.

"You know...it's just a small thing for someone….Dad got it last year so this year...I'll...yeah," she stammers. I watch as she puts in the final resistors into the breadboard, and a beautiful heart appears several inches off of the board. _Routa_ , it says. Quietly she turns it off and places it under the bed. "There's stuff on your mind," she says briefly. "As your mentor, I'm supposed to….we are more in tune than you think," Wiress says.

I begin to open my mouth before she shakes her head. "Family issues. They'll just….understand..." Wiress trails off.

There isn't much more to be said, so I rest my head on her shoulders as she continues to work on her breadboard. When the train pulls into District 3, I suddenly have the urge for coffee. I'll have to show it with my family.

 _Current Ripper, Victor of Hunger Games 10, perished 2 months before Victory due to a severe case of lung cancer. He is survived by his wife of many decades, Amanda Ripper, two of his four children, and two grandchildren._

 _Lilo Suales of Hunger Games 45 disappeared 3 days before the death of Current. Her body has never been found, and neither has her best friend, a land shark named Kronk. She is survived only by her son, Francisco Suales._

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **I've been severely crippled in terms of writing since my laptop was in repairs for a while, but I hope that you find this chapter good. Jake was a difficult victor to work with so I hope I did him justice as we say farewell to a series mainstay. Anyways, next chapter should be of better quality as we return to one of the careers. Also, my SYOT is going up pretty soon, and I just have some world building stuff to build.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	73. Nox Merdon

_**Victor #73;**_

 _ **Name: Nox Merdon**_

 _ **District: 2**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 073**_

 _ **Death: Caleb (145)**_

 _Spectacle Crystal, 18 years old, District 1 Male; Placing, 2nd_

When I finally see another tribute, it's my former ally. Somehow, even among the two cannons that fired over the course of today, I had a feeling that he wouldn't be one of them. And yes, I expected to make it here, but so did he. I remember considering him a friend in the early stages of the pre-games and in the games, even while the careers went through the fractures caused by my defecting partner and the ultimate split at the final 8.

Nox and I are more alike than we are different, and it's how we bonded with each other in the pre-games. "Nox," I shout into the collapsing castle. He staggers out, tall and intimidating like I've seen most District 2 boys in the years past. "It's just you and me. I'm glad to be an opponent for you."

He looks taken aback at my statement, recoiling just a bit. Or maybe it's because I'm not as good looking as I was at the start of the games. "I'm not going to kill you without a fight. I believe in Honor," he states boldly, stepping closer to me.

I match his movement, circling towards him. His short and curly obsidian black hair clashes against his dusty but still white skin. We stop 10 feet away from each other. My bow rests awkwardly and hangs on my shoulders. I wait for him to make the first move, but to my surprise, I begin to speak. "I'm not going to let you go out like this. How good of a state are you in?"

It's probably a stupid move, but the Capitol loves their Career and career finale. Even more when it comes with honor, like Mallius, Enobaria, Cashmere, and Gloss all before us. "Let's go out on good terms, shall we? For the glory of our family?"

I look at him once again, the noble but brutal friend, and see him take a large breath. "I always considered you a friend," I say stepping up to him. The height difference between the two of us is barely half an inch, and we are of similar build. I hold out my hand and he takes it. Firmly we shake it like we've always agreed upon. "And I wish you the best for the upcoming battle."

"There isn't much more to say, but I wish the same for you. I promise I'll see you as a friend and hero to all if I win."

"I like that sentiment, and I can only promise the same. Good luck Nox Merdon."

"Good luck Spectacle Crystal. May the odds be ever in our favors."

 _Nox Merdon, 18 years old, District 2 Male; Placing, 1st_

I turn away from him, just as he does. Standing back to back against him, I know I have the toughest fight yet. The two highest scorers, from the two most powerful career Districts, the ones with the highest kill counts so far, the end is near, and we'll give the capitol its show.

I step forward, closer to the rubble, hearing him step farther away from me, therefore we extend our final arena. Like so many face-offs, Cleo's, Mags' , Adonis', any one of the careers of the past for their victories, it's an honorable duel, with the favor going in either way. The castle around us collapsed, finally, and the cornucopia is nowhere in sight. Once I face my friend I find him with his ace, a veritable and sharp zweihander. From what I know of my ally, he's strong enough to cut through anyone in half with it.

When I close my eyes for a long moment, the credo that's guided me, "For the honor," begins to thunder. I picture my home, destroyed with a rock slide and joining the Peacekeeper Academy for a better life. Training against most of my cohorts in the dark of the night and stark heat of the day, seeing some of them die due to stupid outlier or worthy opponent, the blood of my first kill, all runs back to me.

"Are you ready?" I hear Spectacle call out. He's calm but nervous, much like I am. It's his first mistake but if the battle falls in his favor any time, it would be his last.

I grab my short sword from my sheath, discarding the covering into the rubble of cobblestone that forms the loose border of our final battle. For a moment, it appears that all the rumblings have stopped. I know that the gamemakers have done their best to bring the finalists over and that I can finally say the words I've been worried but excited to say.

"I'm ready."

 _Spectacle Crystal, 18 years old, District 1 Male; Placing, 2nd_

I face my opponent, my friend, and former ally, as he glares at me from 25 feet away. Unbelievably we have this large of a battle place to fight dust settles around the two of us, making a dusty but still flat miniature arena to fight around. Of course, he takes the first step. He stands like I do, grim face and tensed muscles. He begins to swing his short sword around to my side, which I begin to swipe away quickly. "Out of practice?" I taunt.

He grins cockily and backs away, kicking me in the knees. The pain hurts badly but I power through it in order to try to swing into his chest. My old ally still has his reflexes from years of training and I always knew that this was going to be a tough battle. "I've always been able to keep up with you, can you do the same?" he taunts.

It's almost like old times when I get up from the blow and swing in a wide arc. In a stroke of luck, I am able to slash him sharply along his midsection but the gash is far from fatal. Immediately he pulls up his sword and parries my zweihander away. I still maintain my grip and try to push forward to him, making a deadly x in between our face. It's almost a stalemate, but we both are holding our ground well. The first major advancement in our battle begins to show once one of us makes a move.

 _Nox Merdon, 18 years old, District 2 Male; Placing, 1st_

We are stuck, that much is apparent. He and I have both been of the same strength even about a week after splitting. With similar builds we have similar strength and have similar mobility issues, that much I gathered from my closest ally while training with him. Staring intently at his light-toned skin shows that he's covered in sweat. The battle is heating up, and the arena seems to be getting hotter as well.

Seeing no other option, with him pushing strongly against my sword and me almost falling back, I fall out into a spin. Gripping the sword handle with both of my hands I spin swiftly enough to catch him off guard and leave him dazed. I know that the moment is just enough to gain a tactical retreat but I take a risk worthwhile and slash his right shoulder just my luck that I managed to slash the dominant shoulder.

A cocky grin begins to form but I find it wiped off as soon as he kicks me in the stomach. He's a brutal hand to hand fighter who uses his muscular build well; hard to think that I thought those same thoughts from what seemed to be weeks ago. I coil over and he punches me in the face, stabbing me in my dominant hand in the meanwhile. I scream loudly as I try to fight back. We fall to the ground in a mass of muscle, blood, and bone, still unsure of who will win the final fight.

 _Spectacle Crystal, 18 years old, District 1 Male; Placing, 2nd_

With us on the ground, we're trying our damnedest to gain an advantage. Both of our dominant hands are crippled. In the span of five seconds, the battle has turned from tall and strong to one more akin to an unruly outlier battle. The one thing I can keep in my head even amidst the strong but clumsy punches is that I must prevent my adversary from pinning me to the ground.

Many times we roll around on the dust and shaky ground. I counter one of his many punches with a quick chop to his neck and he coughs up blood. There's a brief feeling of pride but I force myself to force it down until I finally deal with my friend. To my shock, I end up pinning him even as he fiercely fails to break through.

I take a moment to catch my breath as I move my legs to his stomach, unaware of my rookie mistake.

I can barely get a grip on his pinned body as he thrashes, due to the slipping texture that the blood pooling on his stomach, and I can barely account for his powerful lurches that finally send me onto the ground. It's the first time that I realize I'm going to be known as the second place finisher of Hunger Games 73.

 _Nox Merdon, 18 years old, District 2 Male; Placing, 1st_

Once I get Spectacle off of me, I know that victory is near. He's wasted most of his effort into pinning me down, so his normally strong arms do nothing to throw me off. I fix my legs and wrap them around his own ankles in a better effort to keep him pinned down. Even as he thrashes, I have him under my hand, under my advantage, meaning that his death is imminent.

Almost immediately guilt washes over me. I'm killing my friend, a fellow killer, but still my friend nonetheless. He's had much to go for, but so do I. I'm conflicted with my inner thoughts, but I move my hands to his throat, clenching tightly like I was taught in the Peacekeeper Academy. Even through his coughs of struggle, the only thing on my mind is true victory, the end of my long struggle.

Spectacle finally stops resisting, but his eyes still move around frantically. I manage to lock eyes with him once, gently pleading for him to forgive me. Despite them rolling back into his head, not more than ten seconds later, however bulged they may have been, I can swear that I caught the emotion of forgiveness in them one last time. With his eyes fixed open his thrashing body slows to a gentle lull, almost too peaceful, and his cannon fires.

 **Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the Victor of Hunger Games Seventy-Three, Nox Merdon of District 2** Claudius Templesmith's voice booms through the now empty arena. I look to the sky, trying to force the tears from spilling out any more than they already have, waiting for the arena to open. Now that the adrenaline is dying down, my stomach is stinging, and my hand is trembling, causing even more blood to spill, but I try my best not to get it on my worthy opponent.

No. I can't call him that anymore, not when I knew him personally, not when we were the last of the careers to split apart, not when we confessed our desires. I look down at him and his face conforms to the faces of my victims. The girl from District 7, who was weak and taken out at 22nd place in the six-person bloodbath. The boy from 5, who tried to attack Spectacle's partner, Glow, but died by my spear at 21st place. Vorten, the boy from District 6, my first kill on one of the pack's hunts, dying at 19th place. Glow, who tried to defect and killed the District 4 boy the 12th Day in the arena, finishing 10th. Islinda, the wild career of us from District 4, dying just at the final 8, when the careers disbanded. Chell, from District 10, who had nothing to her besides her name, at 6th. Elisander, the boy from District 8, tough and strong but not strong enough to not die at 5th Place. Lorikeet, the District 9 girl who I talked to during training and tried to get her in the alliance, the third place finisher.

His face finally returns after Lorikeet. He's been brutally messed up, the only thing I can manage to do for his body is close his eyes. Silently I promise that I'll remember him, my best friend in these chaotic weeks even after we split off, and I'll make him a hero.

The arena sky opens up and comes a trio of hovercrafts. A ladder drops for me. I begin to move towards it, standing tall and proud with my head bowed like the trainers told me and how I've always rehearsed. I'm about 10 feet from the hovercraft when I turn back to the arena. The once proud and intimidating castle, whose tribute's shrieks echoed through the night thanks to candelabra pursuits, knights of armor, and almost portal like paintings, still stands tall as a piece of rubble, but already there are reconstruction efforts. It's bound to be a great resort.

When I turn behind me, I see the claw picking up Lorikeet, then moving to pick up Spectacle. I decide that it isn't good enough for my friend, and step away from the rope ladder. I sling my friend's corpse onto me, slowly murmuring a hymn to a prayer to the mountains, before I climb onto the first rung of the ladder that takes me out of the arena. I think a part of me stays, and a new part of me leaves. I can only do so much to honor Spectacle.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here.**

 **Happy Memorial day! This chapter, is oddly appropriate, actually, with the last ending. I hope you guys liked it, and I hope that Nox was a good enough victor for all of you. I may have faltered with the fight scene, but I truly do hope that you enjoyed it.**

 **The next couple of chapters are quite frankly, not going to be easy. I'll stick with One Character in largely the same format. Guess who it is, and I'll give you a shoutout once those chapters come out. As for my SYOT, it may come out ahead of schedule, so I hope you all submit to that.**

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	74. Peeta Mellark

_**Victor #74;**_

 _ **Name: Peeta Mellark**_

 _ **District: 12**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 074**_

 _ **Death: Ketrin (90)**_

"Mom," I speak up in the simple house of ours. "I'm going out."

I don't usually get a response from her so I don't really expect one. It shakes me slightly once I hear her voice call back. "Take care...stick to the main roads...and help…" she says before trailing off. Buttercup runs up and tries to get a petting out of me but I tell him to run to Mom. He mewls before I carry him. It's always what he wants. Mom seems surprised at his gesture too.

I guess Katniss leaving just five days ago already changed our house.

Just beyond the doorway is a very poor world. My world...my home, really. Even if my blond hair and blue eyes aren't the norm for this part of the District I would suppose that it is my home. Like always, it's something of a ghost town. The miners typically don't get a break. Even with the reaping yesterday on Saturday there is no time to recuperate, but Katniss and Peeta didn't come from a miner's background.

Hazelle's house slowly appears on the horizon and Rory comes out, trailed by Vick and Posy, as usual. They go to school with me, but today isn't a day for school. I tuck my hair back as the three younger Hawthorne kids run up to join me. "Where you going Prim?" Rory asks. He always has something of a lisp and is a bit weird with his footing.

"To town, I'm going to grab food for mom," I say. "She's been talking a bit more. I kind of hope Katniss is here to see this change later. She said I wasn't going to be picked. Then now she's gone."

The walk to town is something long and it passes by Katniss' usual hunting meadow just on the other side of the fence. She's tried to take me there two or three times before into the woods. I thought that just like Lady, they could be saved. Every time we'd be a minute too late and she'd sell the corpse of the animals at the hob.

Town square comes up on our walk sooner than I think. It's right next to the justice building and the town square. They form two sides of the quadrilateral and a row of stores; the clothing store, the butcher's, the confectionary, the stationary, and the bakery make up a third. The theoretical fourth wall not only connects me and you to the world of Panem but the edge of the train station and the butchers. "Come on Prim, I'll race you there," Rory says for fun. He gets a 10-secondhead start so I don't catch up with him even when he trips slightly. Another blond girl helps him up and he opens the door for her as she moves into the bakery.

Katniss has told me the story about the bread many times but it's weird walking into a small but well kept store. The display is well tended by the Mellark boys, Katydid Mellark runs the till, and Rye Mellark steps out of the back kitchen to greet us all. He smiles lightly and moves to help his wife when the boys, Gershom and Weddell i think, move to bring out some trays of bread to put in the store. "Mister Mellark?" I ask timidly.

He waves off his wife, always a sunken-faced woman, and moves to help me and Rory pick out some bread for the day. Rory and I dig in the pocket to pay for the half dozen of bread to be spread among us but he just tells us to move to the register and he bags the bread in two paper bags and slides it to the both of us. "Tell Sagittaria and Hazelle I give them my regards."

"Mister Mellark. Are you sure you don't need payment?" I ask innocently enough. "I don't think Katniss would want me to just take this so we can pay you back if she comes home from the games."

"Your sister has paid enough with her squirrels," he says quietly.

We don't continue our conversation as Rory herds Posy and Vick together before- "For the old gods you insipid little girl! Just pick some and go! And save some for the customers!"

Madge Undersee, I think I saw her when she went to say goodbye to Katniss almost a week ago, is steaming with some poorly kept anger as she angrily takes out five loaves of uncut bread. As if to spite Mrs. Mellark she flips her off and storms outside of the bakery, leaving her uncounted cash on one of the shelves. "Prim, take you and your friends out of here, we're going to have to restock for lunch and tonight," Mr. Mellark demands. Obediently the four of us leave and turn into the main square. Rory and his family says taht they need to go and grab some cloth for their mother's laundry, and they visit the stationary for some spare scraps, still with some spare money.

On instinct I turn into the Hob, which sits several ways behind the train station, and one of the closest areas to victor's village. While the closed off community is ghostly like always the hob is abuzz with life as people haggle over some stuff. Madge finds me and runs up to me, holding my shoulder tightly. "Prim, what the fuck are you doing here?"

I blink, not used to the language, but even if I weren't as flabbergasted, I don't have a valid response. "Come on, let's head home. Katniss said you lived on the Seam, but I don't know where."

She drags me out of the hob as I see several more people trading under something large and tarped. "What was it that you were doing at the Mellark bakery?" I ask when we turn again onto familiar roads.

"Just upholding Peeta's promise," she says briefly. "We usually buy bread for the hob on Sundays. It's a busy day at the hob, and usually, we can get some material for the orphans.

"Peeta does that?"

"Yeah, he, Delly, me, and some other Town kids. Apparently Peeta's father used to do that. Peeta's mother never liked that," Madge states. "And I need to have some ways of getting strawberries when Katniss isn't here."

"You and Peeta hung out with each other for quite a while. Katniss always said that you know? Were you always friends with Peeta?"

She sighs and I point her in the direction of my house. "Yeah. we always were friends. I guess it's something about townies sticking together or something. And something about artistry. He likes music. I played piano for him and taught him a few notes."

Madge sounds a bit weird, but I think that she isn't used to the coal dust. I show her my three room house and invite her in. Mom riles up and grabs the bag of bread from my hands. "Mom, Mr. Mellark says hello. Madge walked me home if you want to know," I say.

"Nice to meet you Ms. Everdeen," Madge says respectfully, holding her hand.

Mom takes a moment to look in her eyes and smiles as she strokes Madge's hair before inviting her to have some egg with us. "Prim do you want to show her Lady and buttercup?"

Seemingly hearing our conversation, Lady and buttercup walk into our vicinity and nuzzle against our legs. "Peeta told me that Rooba tried to get this goat the year Katniss brought it home. He saw it from the windows and heard the conversation from typical gossip. Peeta always had an odd eye out for gossip. It was an odd quirk but I'm sure that you get gossip here. I liked hanging out with Peeta."

"Did you like him? In that way?" I ask quietly.

She laughs with her hand over her mouth and continues to pet Lady. Lady eventually trudges out to her pen and buttercup takes her place, sitting on Madge's lap. "There was something about Peeta that...I don't know, didn't make us compatible. He always had an eye for Katniss. Peeta was a nice friend, my best friend, and there were many boys who had their eye on the baker's son Honestly I wouldn't blame them, he's strong, charismatic, and very nice. His mom's a witch but he doesn't let her get to him."

"He got an eight last night," I note quietly.

"Yeah, and Katniss got the highest score. 11. Only the second time that's happened in one of the lower Districts. Chaff, that one handed victor, got the only other 11 from a lower District. It's interesting, I think Katniss can make it home."

She spends the most of the day with us, exchanging random observations and stories. She helps out around the house, packing away Katniss' clothes neatly, and the day actually goes by pretty quickly with her helping out. She says that she has to return home but will join us for the mandatory viewing tonight. It's the interviews, and I can only wonder who'll be the standouts.

"She'll stand out," Mom says as she helps braid my hair. I tough the back of my scalp and listen to her drabble even as I finish putting the final touches on my dress. The walk to the square seems to be awkward but there's something of a stronger air this year that Katniss and I haven't felt.

Madge pulls over two chairs for me and mom and we sit on a raised stage with the Mellarks, who are all dressed in their best as well, and anxiously looking out into the cameras that want to get our reactions quickly. The girl from 1, Glimmer, is very prepared to enter the game and giggles at the sight of the other competitors before drawing a line playfully across her throat. The boy from 1, Marvel, is pretty cute and strong, one of the favorites who volunteered for a boy with asthma and wants to do his grandma proud. Clove from 2 looks shorter and frailer than some other 2 girls in the past but still looks strong and vicious. Cato is her partner and plays to the crowd as a cheering and ruthless beast. His cute face and nice build helps matters. The girl from 3, Coilette, is scared, and so is her partner, Dixon. The pair from 4 are a confident Laguna and a humble but strong Covell. Kilan, the girl from 5, manages to not say a word for her interview and holds herself better than her coughing 13 year old partner, Thunder. Yvonne and Stabler from District 6 aren't noteworthy but they make strong fights to make it back to their romantic partners. Magnolia and Alexis from District 7 are strong but have no speaking skill. The audience is lulled to sleep with Seamstren's song and are looking out for a boy, Correl who stands almost as tall as some of the strong careers. Mildred from 9 talks about bread and so does her partner, Trevor. The angel-faced Chloe from District 10 cries because she wants her dad and sister and the boy from district 10, Herdsmith, limps on stage. Mom tightens her grip on my shoulder as the youngest tribute this year, Rue, climbs on stage. Then there's the monstrous boy from District 11 who is soft spoken but strong and is a heavy favorites for his intimidating presence.

When I see my sister on the stage I smile, seeing her look beautiful, and she handles herself well on the stage. She's incredibly bubbly, much more than I've ever seen her. "Uh..all I can say is, I think it was a first," she says to vouch for her great score. The gamemakers are seen laughing at this, and trying to keep her from revealing the secret, and she doesn't. Then she spins on stage, falling after several spins.

"I can't believe that's my sister!" I shout, louder than I think I mean to, and begin laughing as she strides off stage.

Peeta Mellark starts the last interview of the night and he bounces things off really well with Caesar Flickerman. After a while of banter, they move the topic to Peeta's object of affections. He begins to blush ferociously and Madge winces as she anticipates the answer. No one expects the six words to come out of his mouth but Madge, and she winces once they are said all throughout the nation. "Because she came here with me."

The interviews end shortly after and there's massive cheers as the camera spends its time on all 24 tributes. "Madge, are you okay?" I ask as she finishes rubbing her eyes from staring at the large screen. It's an early day tomorrow, with mandatory viewing on top of some school.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I never did get over the fact that I had competition with him but I'm wishing both of my friends luck for tomorrow," she says simply. Mom and I walk home pretty quickly afterward and I fall asleep, thinking of the days to come.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I wanted to get both Katniss and Peeta's chapters out at about the same time and I just finished Katniss' chapter right now. Anyways, these next chapters aren't really going to focus on Katpee. Hopefully Prim is a good enough narrator for my loyal reviewers. That being said I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

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	75. Katniss Everdeen

_**Victor #75;**_

 _ **Name: Katniss Everdeen**_

 _ **District: 12**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 074**_

 _ **Death: 4th Quarter Quell**_

Our new home in District 12's Victor's Village is still something that I haven't grown accustomed to. Even with the victory tour behind us and the games behind us all, I don't think that I can walk on these floors. It feels so weird. I grab Buttercup as he walks across the threshold of my door and slowly cradle him. Katniss is at Haymitch's right now for an extended discussion about something and Mom says that she's going to do some placemaking for a while.

Seeing no other option I decide to walk around the snow coated village and eventually move into the town square. Something tells me that Madge would be out of the stocks, so I make sure to check the town square on my usual walks. I pass by Lady's fence and call her to her food. She eats it and pulls off a cute goat smile. Yeah, it's been hard for all of us to smile lately.

I make it to Town Square relatively unperturbed. The peacekeepers line the walk from the town square to Victor's Village and they kind of crowd around me. "Why are you so close?" I ask timidly.

"Protection Ms. Everdeen," one of them, a giant at over six and a half feet tall, says before resuming his post. Ever since that...monster...Romulus Thread came, the District has been more on edge.

The snow has been cleared for the punishment square. Above the pillories and stockades are tall screens for mandatory viewing for the poor. The schools have been telling us about the previous quarter quells, one where the tributes were voted in, and one where twice as many tributes were sent into the arena. Rory and I have been talking a lot about it lately, considering that the twist might not be favorable. I run into him as he tries to scrounge for food at the butcher.

"Rory, do you need some food? We have a lot at home," I whisper. Last time I offered some of my friends food the peacekeepers came over and said that being a victor's relative meant that I couldn't be a charity case.

Typical of him he shakes his head, just as stubborn as his older brother. "Mom says that we're able to do with Gale's wages and her wages and some of my tesserae. We don't want Posy to get tesserae. That's the only thing," Rory explains. Rooba the butcher gives Rory a little slip of meat, probably beef. I pay a little more so that he can have two extra slips and he silently gives me a thank you before running away.

"How is your mother doing?" Rooba asks me gently.

"She's getting better, talking more, and likes going into town when not organizing," I say. "We have a lot of visitors too, I have to help them sometimes."

"It's good you're learning the trade. We need more healers with your mother's hands," Rooba says idly. "Thanks for the stitches the other day. Take an extra slab, you deserve it."

With several pieces of paper wrapped in a bag, I make my way home, shocked at the dimming sky above me. I can tell that Katniss is home due to some chatter I hear as she gets the television turned on. I walk in and hand the slabs of meat to Mom before she cooks them quickly. With a slice of steak on my plate, I begin to eat as Katniss blankly stares at the wedding dress special. She still kind of limps and I can tell that she's really thoughtful of it. "Prim you said something?" she asks me, hearing a sigh that I involuntarily let out.

"Nope, just thinking about the food," I say. Her hearing has been better and she knows where Buttercup happens to be now.

The anthem of Panem begins to play, announcing the start of mandatory viewing. President Snow is on screen, standing tall and bold, but still looking somewhat tired. He greets the members of the Capitol, congratulates Katniss on her marriage, and begins his speech on the Quarter Quell. After some talk about the first quell and the first quell Victor, he talks briefly about Haymitch, and a little boy carrying a case of cards shows up next to him. "To remind us all how the Hunger Games was a result of the sins of our ancestors, all tributes reaped must have a relation to a Victor, be it cousin, mother, father, or child…"

I drop my plate. The meaning also makes its way to Katniss and mom as Snow explains the age limits being changed again. Katniss instinctively runs over to me and clings tightly. I cling tighter if that's possible, and Mom joins the two of us moments later. There aren't any words that can be said for the night so Mom just sends me to bed as Katniss waits with the sink. I can hear then plotting loudly. Katniss and Mom are arguing but soon I fall asleep.

I dream that night. Like normally I flash back to those nights after that fateful day. This time I'm in Katniss' place, facing the bloodbath, this time set in one from year's very far back. A mutt attack sends me to a lake, but the water is poison, and I find myself swimming up to break the surface in Annie Cresta's Arena. The pedestals blow up all around me and I'm shocked back to a floating arena from many years before. I find myself trapped. Like Rue...last year. Katniss calls out to me, screaming for me, and she breaks out of the foliage just in time to be stabbed by the Brutal Brutus. Finnick Odair winds up as the one to kill me, I did fall into his trap after all.

The next day I wake up to an emotionally held peace and silence. Breakfast today is some pig slices and eggs, a good meal. Katniss gets on the phone as soon as I sit down, and when I finish dinner, Peeta and his family have met up in the study of our grand house. I'm really scared so I hold onto Buttercup and try to sit next to Katniss after giving the rest of our guests food. I sit next to Katniss as she calls over Gale, Hazelle, Rory, Vick, and Posy. Haymitch comes just as soon as they do, and I can tell that we need to talk.

"She's not going in," is what Katniss starts the conversation with.

"If she does then I'll protect her," Gale says brashly. "I need to protect my little cousin somehow." He instinctively scratches at his back and I remember that yes, according to the Capitol, Gale is Katniss' poaching cousin.

Mrs. Mellark doesn't speak at all during the very chilled conversation but Mr. Mellark that we all try to train even if we aren't reaped so that we could maybe help stand up for the future. His two eldest sons are in agreement and request training from Peeta immediately. His voice turns soft as he addresses me, Rory, and Vick. We're the youngest people eligible, so he says that we need to train just as hard as the adults. If the age limit wasn't lowered to 10 years old then Vick wouldn't have had to have the speech. In a normal year, it'd be me and Rory in danger.

Rory, Vick, and I nod in agreement and Katniss dismisses the three of us. Then they all turn to talk to Gale and the adults eligible. I try to listen in but my mother turns us away from the conversation and encourages that the younger ones of us all talk to Madge. "Find a story...or something.."

For the next couple of weeks, I find our part of victor's village already abuzz with life, trying train desperately. I find that I'm good with a slingshot, but whenever I try to aim at a human-shaped target...I just can't shoot. Those nights I try to talk to Katniss, but she only helps with the nightmares so much. I begin to sleep in the same bed with her, nervous at the weeks to come.

Madge comes over, smiling at all of us, and helps keeps us supplied. She carries with her some magazines and many Victor relatives dot the headlines. She says she gets them from the capitol, and has highlighted the children of various threats in the arena. Brutus' niblings, Razer's grandchildren, Mags' immense legacy, Blight's children, Tscharner and Seeder's large legacies, all pop out in detailed family trees. From the magazines, we find preliminary odds, and learn that they're going back to at least 4th removed relatives.

Sometimes two men walk by with a girl much like me. They're some of Tody's legacy, held by his sister, and we let them train with us. They're a nice family but also very secretive, and always shiver and sing one forbidden song. I never pay much attention to them.

A week before the reaping we have our DNA tested for the grand show of things. Tody Geredine has had three surviving family members from his sister, two men that will go by Hyplast Geredine and Woody Geredine, and a young girl named Nicole Geredine. Haymitch has no family to speak of, so the capitol leaves him be. My mother, Sagittaria Everdeen, and I, Primrose Everdeen, are confirmed as Katniss' family. Gale, Hazelle, Rory, and Vick, are part of our family's extended family, oddly enough. Peeta's clan, Katydid Mellark, Rye Mellark, Gershom Mellark, and Wedell Mellark, and to my shock, Rooba Mellark, are all going to be eligible for the reaping.

Days later it's my name that's called. I walk to the stage, crying but trying to stand tall. For the second year in a row, someone volunteers for me. Mom takes the stage, her final action of saving her kids. I've never seen Mom like this, and it may be the last time I see her. 'Cousin' Gale is called up to join her, and no one volunteers for him. I hug both of them tightly, somehow knowing that it would be the last time I would see both of them.

* * *

 _The year of Hunger Games 74 saw the death of beloved Victor, first volunteer, first non 18-year-old Victor, and first confirmed LGB+ victor, Leopold Mustang. He was found deceased due to skin cancer at an age of 84 and is survived due to his 7 years preceded brother's family's immense legacy._

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **It's a shorter chapter this time, and I'm sure that you guys aren't really happy. well we have an entire 3 books devoted to Katniss so it's only logical that her sister gets three chapters to herself. ANyways, this is the official point where this fanfiction turns into a purely AU fiction. The next chapter will detail Prim as she watches the events of the 75th Annual hunger Games, so I hope I can work on that chapter.**

 **Also coming up, my SYOT. Yes, I said that more information would come about this chapter, but hopefully my quell is actually published about this time. I hope you guys would be willing to Submit to it, and that you're willing to give me a chance. The form and accompanying material will be there**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	76. The Third Quarter Quell

**_Quarter Quell III:_**

 ** _Hunger Games 75_**

 ** _Victor Death: 2 AHG_**

The Day of the Reaping

There are no goodbyes. Before Mom and Gale are sent into the arena, they allow them to walk down into the reaping pens and hug our family one last time. I shake with tears coming out of my eyes, absolutely sure that I'm probably going to lose my only parent…

Then they get sent to the train station for the last time, and I touch the braid at the back of my head, with Madge holding my arm as she takes me to her home. She hands me a box of tissues and tells me to calm down. I try to and by the time I finish she begins to talk. "The house isn't bugged, but we're talking to each other in the cleaning hallway for a reason," she quietly says.

"Can I just go home? I need to clean up. Mom-she wants the room like that so I better-"

"Prim," she says in a gentle voice. "We'll leave the District. Not just you and me, Rory, Vick, Posy, Hazelle, and Weddell. Not until after the victory tour, but we have to plan." She has a fierce look of determination in her eyes and it kind of scares me but if anything I'm more confused than anything else.

"W-Why?"

"The Capitol took our lives. They've been having it for years, and now they decide to wring us out for the sheer sake of entertainment. Sick fucks they are." I wince at her curse but begin to listen even more intently.

"I have a map too, it's in the district. We are going to leave Hunger Games as soon as Vick isn't eligible for the reaping. It's going to take a while but we need to prepare."

"Where are we going?"

She sighs and slowly whispers it, and it's definitely a forbidden locale. "District 13. This can't last any longer, and I'm going to go help. I'll tell you more in the weeks," she says, pushing me out of the house.

I walk home, exhausted from the day, and just ready for some sleep. The Hawthornes come in my home, shaken as much as I am from the day's events, and I let them sleep in the house.

After the Interviews

I just want to forget that the night ever happened. Both mom and Gale were too silent during their interviews, and seeing them on stage just talking about their lives is kind of surreal. Instantly I'm reminded of the night after Katniss' interviews, just thinking about a lot really, after Peeta's declaration.

I turn on the television even though the Hawthornes are asleep. There are highlights of the victor relative games playing in the background as I open one of the magazines. Amadeus Mustang is a descendant of Leopold Mustang from District 1. Luscious Veritas is a niece of Desire Veritas. Adrian Anobarius of District 2 is a nephew of Brutus and Jessica Merdon, Nox Merdon's older sister by three years joins him.

Jake's cousin Shanders is the male tribute at 14 years old and among the youngest in the arena. Wiress' wife's sister is Madenna Casio at 37 but is just as weak. A distant descendant of Torrent, Barracuda, is the male tribute at 17 years old while one of Cane's first cousins once removed joins him at 18 years old-Cassidy Detrary. In District 5 they have one of Jumper's nephews, Cable Dumrang, join the fray at 28 years old. Alejandro's mother, Beulah, is called up on stage for the female tribute at 52 years old.

District 6's male tribute is one of Irumn's grandnephew's, someone by the name of Rotom Ferl, and the female is one of Verent's children-Vivian Ruvel. District 7 has a pair of siblings, Rudolph and Miriam Kurkis, the latter of whom volunteered for her younger sister. Dudley Baker is overshadowed by the youngest volunteer who saves a pregnant woman, Audley Turner-11 years old at the reaping. Rimmond Cress, Hazel Mephrous, Geryon Hooks, and Mackie Broughtis are overshadowed in light of Audley. Donnabella Firest at 19 saves her mother and Melvin Sover saves his son. Mom saves me, and Gale is picked.

I shake as I read through a magazine of the past quell arenas, the museum complex and the poisoned paradise. Both times outliers won, District 9 and District 12. I don't know if they'll survive. When I fall asleep on the couch, someone coats a blanket over me. I can hear Rory wishing me good night just as I fall asleep.

The Bloodbath

The day the games begin the first death is Audley. She falls off the pedestals and sends a tidal wave into Rimmond Cress, but he rights himself only for the bloodbath to begin without him

 _Audley Turner, 11 years old, 24th Place, Cecelia Turner's daughter_

Gale and the District 11 girl, Donnabella, make it to the cornucopia island in the middle at the same time as about 20 others, luckily they slip away unnoticed. They run to Geryon in one of the forest wedges over yonder. Along the way I see Jumper's nephew trip in front of one of the career men, and he's slaughtered by one of the careers

 _Cable Dumrang, 28 years old, 23rd Place, Jumper Dumrang's Nephew_

Mom...Mom has a good chance of getting away, to meet with Beulah...then they both get taken out by the same spear...I can't see anymore of the bloodbath, but Rory fills me in as I rest on his shoulder...Mom…

 _Sagittaria Everdeen, 42 years old, 22nd Place, Katniss Everdeen's Mother and Peeta Mellark's Mother in law_

 _Beulah Yustriv, 52 years old, 21st Place, Alejandro Yustriv's mother_

I say little during the interview. I know Gale is out of the frying pan but I don't know if he's in the pot. I look on the screen to still see the fights waging on. Miriam tries to pull herself out of the water and stumbles onto land before a career girl kills her.

 _Miriam Kurkis, 22 years old, 20th Place, Vander 'Blight' Kurkis' Daughter_

Rotom Ferl stumbles into a wedge, looking for opposition. He finds it when he stumbles upon Gale, Donnabella, and Geryon's alliance. The three of them overpower him quickly, and they all deal a lethal blow.

 _Rotom Ferl, 15 years old, 19th Place, Irumn Ferl's Son_

With the bloodbath dying down, some tributes move out into the forest. The pair from four have defected from the careers and hunt for more victims. They find the first one quickly.

 _Hazel Mephrous, 21 years old, 18th Place, Jonas Mephrous' great grand niece_

The careers find the last victim before the bloodbath is truly over. The boy from 2 decides to torture the man. He puts up a good fight but dies after 20 minutes of torture.

 _Dudley Baker, 29 years old, 17th Place, Shawn Baker's Brother_

After the day's events I...I get lost. I think Rory and Madge hold their arms around me as we go to have dinner in the Mellarks' house. It's...a quiet dinner. Some jokes make me laugh but I just look blankly at my bread in mourning. Mom really wasn't there for a big part of my life, but they seem to pale in comparison to when she was there...helping the kids, helping the miners, really helping anyone. The memories don't disappear and neither do the feelings.

Mandatory Viewing Day 2

Tonight's mandatory viewing comes after 3 more deaths. The gimmick of the arena, revealed midnight last night, has taken out 2 tributes in the early morning and 1 has fallen in combat.

At 12 o'clock lightning hits a tree. From 1-2 there's some blood rain in a sector of the arena. And at 2-3, the first death of the arena strikes. Poisonous fog engulfs a sleeping lady. She doesn't wake up, but the fog wracks her body with contortions and blisters and by the time the fog is over, her corpse is almost unrecognizable.

 _Mackenzie 'Mackie' Broughtis, 53 years old, 16th Place, Crate Broughtis' Sister_

3-4 has the next trap of the Arena. A man sleeps in the trees before being awakened by the ruffle of some leaves in an adjacent tree. He turns to his right and sees the beasts. Fanged orange monkeys. Muttations, no doubt, and they're angry. Slowly he tries to stumble down the tree, murmuring District 11 curses, but accidentally falls back and looks in the eye of one of the monkeys. It's the signal to attack and he's left with blood that coats him by at least 3 inches.

 _Melvin Sover, 39 years old, 15th Place. Tscharner Sover's Brother_

Recounted next are some harrowing chases through the jungle, all ending in failure for a large portion of those involved. The one chase that ends in success results in a kill that belongs to the pair from District 4. At around 7 pm to 8 pm, the boy from District 3 outruns a chasm that appears just behind him and into the wedge before, where an hour earlier was a beast (I can't reveal for plot reasons). Now, the District 4 tributes charge at him, and he goes down with his head rolling away.

 _Shanders Funtus, 14 years old, 14th Place, Jake Funtus' cousin_

That night Madge comes over to our house and talks for a while. She's a reassuring figure in my friend circle as of late. With her, she brings a spare sewing kit for me and lets Hazelle do her laundry for cash. It's a small amount of laundry for the price she pays, and it's quite a bit. Hazelle gives me some of her cash and I find some notes on them, detailing a way to get to District 13.

Mandatory Viewing Day 3

Rory joins me for mandatory viewing for Day 3. We sit on stage facing the giant screen as the four deaths of the day begin to show. Two of them due to the arena and 2 of them due to combat.

The one from District 6 finds herself after the last night's anthem kind of lost. She just wanders aimlessly and tries to point out things in the sky. She's focused on the sky so much that she doesn't hear the rumbling before it's too late. Her body is washed to the central lake in a massive tsunami that drowns her and impales her leg on a branch.

 _Vivian Ruvel, 24 years old, 13th Place, Verent Ruvel's Daughter_

The next day the outlier trio of true underdogs (as it's called by the Capitol) run into Rudolph Kurkis, who attacks Donnabella. She fights back fiercely and stabs the poor man in the neck before shuddering and trudging onward.

 _Rudolph Kurkis, 28 years old, 12th Place, Vander 'Blight' Kurkis' son_

The more traditional group of careers run into the man from District 9. The two from District 2 are elected to kill him, but in an act of defiance buries a scythe in the skull of the District 1 man before his two killers take him away and gut him like a pig. His body is barely taken before a series of fires threaten to incinerate the rival careers.

 _Amadeus Mustang, 18 years old, 11th Place, Leopold Mustang's great grandnephew_

 _Rimmond Cress, 17 years old, 10th Place, Monaghue Cress' Grand Nephew_

Thom, Gale's hunting partner, joins us for dinner in my house. He shares some warm jokes and a turkey he managed to sneak through the fence. After the Quell, I couldn't help but notice the...lack of peacekeepers. Especially Thread, but Madge is trying to find out. Madge lets me know in a hushed whisper that he's joining us but leaving earlier, it'll be easier for him to do so if he needs it. I invite Mags to join me and the Hawthornes for the night but she politely declines and leaves us with a bread basket with some medicine in case some miners come with cases of flu.

It dawns on me that I'm going to have to contribute more with Katniss being a devoted wife to Peeta. Haymitch filled me in on the situation with them a while ago, and I know that I may end up with an unwitting brother in law by next year. I look out the windows into Lady's pen and find her sleeping well. Buttercup joins me that night, something that I'd treasure over the next couple of days.

Mandatory Viewing Day 4

Five deaths. Three cannons all to combat and 2 to the arena. It's the most since the bloodbath and could very well be the finale of the Hunger Games this year. I hold Posy tightly as the mandatory viewing comes in the air. After some filler images of the tributes walking around, Claudius Templesmith tells us all the action is about to begin at about 5:00. They cut to a video of crisis among the outer District Alliance. Geryon and Gale are stuck in the 5-6 wedge and...damn…

I cover Posy's eyes as the torture begins to play. Jabberjays distort our voices, all of District 12's voices, from interviews and live feeds, and they all scream for help. Geryon and Gale and Donnabella all try to break through the barrier in vain but they just wind up exhausting themselves. Donnabella is collapsed and Gale and Geryon are curled in fetal positions as the birds caw at every slight breathing they make.

The torture ends and Gale gets up, shivering. His eyes are bloodshot and he's mouthing the names of his family. Geryon gets up to see him in a disillusioned state and looks at Donnabella. They say he's far gone, driven insane. The Hawthornes are looking at the screen with an open jaw and I cover Posy's ears and bury her face in my chest as Geryon slowly walks up to Gale with a knife.

Gale fights back. He's always been strong, and Geryon holds himself well, but soon he finds his back on the ground and vulnerable for Gale's strand of rope. In one of the most twisted battles I've ever seen, Donnabella tries to get Gale off of Adam and stabs him in the back. Two cannons go off, and Donna looks down in horror to see that she stabbed both of her allies. She flees into the forest.

 _Gale Hawthorne, 19 years old, 9th Place, Katniss Everdeen's Cousin And Peeta Mellark's Cousin in Law_

 _Geryon Hook, 18 years old, 8th Place, Adam Hook's brother_

Through the tears, I see the rest of mandatory viewing, and Posy runs off to join her family in a group hug. Bringing my knees up to my chest I begin to watch the District 3 woman run into the careers, and she's taken out after a while of torture.

 _Madenna Casio, 37 years old, 7th Place, Wiress Casio's sister in law_

Several hours later the career pack is on edge and rests on some leaves in the jungle. At seven o'clock they all turn poisonous and seem to trap two of their members, the boy from District 2 and the girl from District 1 in a coffin of leaves, killing them after ten minutes of suffocation

 _Adrian Anobarius, 24 years old, 6th Place, Brutus Anobarius' nephew_

 _Luscious Veritas, 20 years old, 5th Place, Desire Veritas' Niece_

Mandatory viewing ends with us at the final four. Jessica Merdon of District 2, Barracuda Swell and Cassidy Detrary of District 4, and Donnabella Firest of District 11. Donnabella's grandmother has always been liked in the Capitol for her nice but blunt yet caring disposition, while the three careers are related to classical careers. Support for Cassidy is at the highest but the others aren't that far apart, and Donnabella is at second.

Madge decides to join us for the night, knowing that we need to be quelled of the nightmares. It was one of the scariest scenes in the arena. I don't want to see more. I talk to Madge deep at night, and she holds my arms and tells me that she doesn't know what's going on, but there will be an end. She also tells me that Romulus Thread has been assassinated by Snow for toying with such powerful property and is going to be replaced with a less strict peacekeeper immediately. I fall asleep with nightmares of Thread Jabberjays and poisoned caskets.

Mandatory Viewing Day 5

The trumpets to victory ring during lunch time...when the lightning should be striking. I walk close to Rory as we move to the final mandatory viewing, he's lost at his brother dying, I don't blame him. Gale was a strong part of the seam and we'll all miss him. We lean on each other as the victory reel begins to play.

Ultimately it's anticlimactic but exciting nonetheless. The pair from District 4 rest under the lightning tree in the 12-1 sector. Lightning strikes and the girl is burnt to a crisp. Then the lightning hits another tree. And another. And another, and the boy runs into the lake.

 _Cassidy Detrary, 18 years old, 4th Place, Cane Detrary's first cousin once removed_

Donnabella is resting in the 7-8 sector of the arena when the earthquakes of that sector begin. With her face absolutely resolute she runs to the center, cutting across the mutant cicadas that she's heard every night. Then she runs into the ocean trying to reach the cornucopia, the last safe place here.

On the other side of the arena Jessica's cannon is overshadowed by the massive amount of disasters all unfolding at once. She's the only victim of the Hydra Mutt released in the 6-7 sector of the arena.

 _Jessica Merdon, 23 years old, 3rd Place, Nox Merdon's Sister_

Donnabella reaches the island of the cornucopia first but it doesn't matter. The wave from the 10-11 sector has finally released and spilled out. The boy from 4 is a strong swimmer but the wave carries over the entire arena and drops him in the adjacent fire. Miraculously the fire catches on the wave, and sets the poor boy alight as he drowns in the wave.

 _Barracuda Swell, 17 years old, 2nd Place, Torrent Swell's great grandchild_

Donnabella looks over the destroyed arena and grimly nods as the trumpets blare, declaring Donnabella Firest, 19 years old, Seeder's grandchild, as the victor of the Third Quarter Quell. She goes up the ladder with the blood of four people on her hands, and joins the elusive Quell victor's club with Haymitch of District 12 and Maury of District 9

The three days after Victory

Katniss comes home in Peeta's arms. She hugs me tightly as well. We lost our mother. That's all there to be said on the matter, and we need to move on. Madge meets up with Katniss and confirms the plan to leave the District, but she has to stay here. The Hawthornes sometimes stay nightly and I think buttercup gets accustomed to Rory just as quickly as I do. As usual, Madge gives us a stack of magazines to peruse over.

"I met Donnabella in the victor residence," Katniss says quietly as I look over a magazine.

"How was she?"

"Cool," she says quietly. "We're more alike than different once it boils down to it. I'm not going to wish hell on her for killing Gale if that's what you're asking. I think we can be friends, but it's going to take a while."

I don't push the subject.

* * *

 _Leif Vanas of District 1 was the second to last of the first decade of victors to die, and he died the year of Hunger Games 75. He is survived by his wife Diamond Vanas, son Sheen Vanas, and grandchildren Loki Vanas, Asgard Vanas, and Beauty Vanas_

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **At this point, we are officially in AU territory. Now, Gale and Mrs. Everdeen are dead, and so are several other victor relatives. I didn't make it clear in this chapter, but the headgamemaker is not Heavensbee, that changed this AU.**

 **Anyways, I hope that Donnabella was a respectable victor for all of you. We'll see more of her in the future since she lives through the rest of the Hunger Games and a little more**

 **Now, my SYOT is already published, with a deadline for the summer solstice. I want a variety of tributes to choose from so I hope that you guys would be willing to submit. More details are in my SYOT and on my profile, so check there for information**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	77. Jackie Tymphus

_**Victor #77;**_

 _ **Name: Jackie Tymphus**_

 _ **District: 9**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 076**_

 _ **Death: 141, Bruce**_

 _Dear Diary,_

I write to you a year after I stopped using you. Please forgive me. I have to thank you first and foremost, thank you for being with me for 11 years of my life even if you remained unopened for the last year of my life. Words are unable to be strung together in a coherent sentence in an effort to tell you how grateful I am for your very presence. So Diary #1, gifted by father Michael Tymphus, thank you for being here.

I can't help but notice but you have been through a lot, especially in those 15 days of horror. I would never wish that upon you ever again. I thank you once more for being with me, and I am grateful that you survived for long. However I can't help but notice that you may have forgotten some aspects of my life. It's no fault of your own of course. Only the beginning years have been lost and I suppose I should catch you up on these aspects old friend.

Hopefully you remember that my father was such a proper man. He spent his life as a bookworm and pursuing the finer arts. He was a high class man who was born to the most prosperous of circumstances and quickly became one of the richer men in the districts with abundant help from his parents and older siblings. Alas, he was a fair bit conservative with his family of his wife and three daughters, myself included. I was told to stay in the house and protect myself and my siblings as he went with more exhausting work.

I'm sure that you remember that I was compliant and waas willing to do as he told until I turned 7, of course, a year befitting the start of our hard times. With my father no longer able to make more money with his distribution of ale due to the increased restrictions on travel and lumber I tried to contribute but my father wanted to protect his family at all costs.

As the rebellious middle child I begged to differ. Within several days I found myself asking for work on the streets, knowing that my father could very well have punished me for disobeying him. The money I got from harvesting grain and bundling them into batches helped our family onto our feet once more and my father was grateful. At the same time I could not help but notice that he was kind of distanced from the rest of our family. I was close to Grandfather Barlen, of whom comforted me in saying that my father believed he had failed in protecting his family.

I still consider my father a good man even after he took his life.

Three years passed and the highest showing a District 9 female obtained in the Hunger Games was a third place finish the year my father took his life. I always thought we could have done better. When I found myself doubting the District I found myself pushing my body to the limits working, oftentimes coming home sore and covered in bruises. I only saw the effects that it had on my body when I was reaped.

It was a shocking sight, I'm sure that you could remember, but with my father's death still at the front of my brain, I had to compose myself and protect my family much like my father did for us when he was still alive. So I stood, onstage, trying to hold the tears behind my eyes even as they threatened to burst. I took you as my token, as I'm sure that you recall. I do not recall if I wrote in you for those times, so I'd best describe. I had said goodbye to my mother, Skitter Tymphus, as she cried and hugged me slowly. It was a sad moment but I had to be strong even as my siblings, elder sister Flauna Tymphus, and younger sister Niddia Tymphus.

It was Niddia who gave you to me amidst tears. Alas, I could only take one token, so writing with you proved to be impossible. I hugged my younger sister dearly and let her leave with her boyfriend as I contemplated my situation. I spent most of the train in deep thought, barely acknowledging my Cooper Hedge, my 13 year old District Partner.

To my shock, I found that I was one of the favorites, higher than the District 4 female. Of course with the fluctuating mentality of the capital I found that remaining as one of the favorites was a tough course. I do know that my perchance to talk highly of myself shows predominantly in my deepest thoughts, but at the risk of sounding like a braggart, I'll try to humble myself and try to put down what I recall were quotes for the capitol magazines, so forgive me for the informal tone, I know that father would very much be displeased.

" _ **This year's District 9 tributes definitely stood out as the cream of the crop! With the hilarious and realistic showings from the cutest little boy of this year and the dynamic surprise from one of the best underdog careers! Yes, while the 5'3 scamp who is Cooper has all the hearts of little girls and funny play-yard affections, the one who has taken the eye of all the distinguished District 9 Fanatics is the beautiful, strong, bold, amazing Jackie Tymphus! Standing at an astonishing 5'10 with her beautiful brown hair and alluring green eyes, and might I say the best rack of all the outliers. Yessiree! This District 9 supporter has found a victor who matches the careers, so the traditionals better watch the fuck out!"**_

Once again I do apologize for the brief break of formality. You were there for my victories both with the career pack and against the career pack. At the risk of sounding arrogant I do have to say that the author of the magazine excerpt was quite a correct 'bitch' in layman's terms. I do have to thank you once more for being there for the most tumultuous moments of my life, but I do not think that you were here for some of the most insane parts as of late.

If I may break in formality one final time, as the end of the diary entry will be here, I have to say that this was rather arduous. I see everyone. All seven deaths, including three of the stronger careers, the little 12 year old they elected me to kill, the bloodbaths, everyone. They hold me as a hero, but I'm actually a villain!

What the fuck have I done to the Districts? Snow visited me for my victory tour. He asked me if I wanted a career academy in the District. I couldn't...I couldn't…

Then he told me that I broke the rules...with you! I don't even get it right now, but remember the firehose? The one you guarded me? Analysts say that it was a… a lucky fluke. But they sould have found that...they should have found that in the toke analyses, and not let me go with you.

If I accepted the career academy, I'd be forgiven, and everyone else could have been protected.

And I apologize.

But

I

Said

Yes

 _Yours Truly,_

 _Jackie Tymphus_

 _Headmistress of District 9's new...academy, the Amber Fields_

Postscript: District 8 and 7 rejected, I can only imagine the horrors that those Districts must have to go through next year.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **It's a shorter chapter this time, and I doubt that it's one of my best. When it boils down to it, it comes immediately after the quarter quell so I doubt that my writing is the best. This also is one of the major diverting points in this AU, where District 9 gets an academy, aloongside District 8 and 7 eventually. I wonder what you guys think of this (also chapters may be shorter)**

 **I'm also kind of burned out on my SYOT so if you guys would be kind enough to leave your thoughts or a submission from that SYOT, that would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	78. Niccety Burnage

_**Victor #78;**_

 _ **Name: Niccety Burnage**_

 _ **District: 08**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 14**_

 _ **Games: 077**_

 _ **Death: 102, Corbin**_

It's taken a while for the girl to wake up. The doctors report her tossing and turning, the usual work arounds for a victoress of her caliper. It's always the outer Districts that come out of the crazy arenas. Doctors report that her injuries are widely spread about, many blows to her head stemming fom the feast. Stuck in the punishing horrors for only 9 days, she got off relatively easy, all things considered.

But the disorientation is going to take weeks, maybe a month to get through when the 14 year old finally wakes up from her long slumber. The phone rings in the doctor's office. It's her mentor, Cecelia Turner. She wants to dote on the girl like she did her daughter all those years ago, she'd be only a year older than Audley would be now. "How's her status?" The older woman asked on the other end of the line.

"Your prodigy is healing but sleeping. Just how did a girl like her get to be that strong?"

"I have no idea," Cecelia replied honestly and nervously. With her second eldest entering the reaping soon it would be a very hard time for the Turner household. "She spend all of training keeping to smaller bladed weapons. She said it felt like home."

"Is there a possibility that she may have been trained?" the doctor asks coldly.

"I'm sorry, but what makes you think that?" Cecelia asks.

"Her actions in the Hunger games were not of a helpless 14 year old. Her score of 6 succeeded all expectations of her, and with 5 documented kills for her age she is someoen to look out for. Mrs. Turner if she has been trained then there's going to be a serious discussion that could end in repercussions for your District."

On the other line Cecelia Turner gulps nervously for her charge, of whom she is the legal guardian for the pomp and circumstance that is the annual Hunger Games. At 5'7" the recent victoress is already half a foot taller than her mentor, but she can see on the video phone that she's just as young, and may look even moreso, than her recently deceased Audley. "Please allow me to talk to Mrs. Turner," Cecelia hears a voice over the video call, interrupting the doctor and her thought process.

"Why of course Mr. President," Dr. Ahenobarbus says quietly. "Thank you for monitoring the health of our victor at this current moment."

"I love my victors, and I just want to check in on them." She sees the Doctor leave the office to check in on the 3 day comatose victoress. In his place stands the most imposing man outside of the victors. With hair as white as his name, eyes as red as the snake's poison that he uses, and a presence as large as the elephants of the sixty-second arena, he sits in front of the screen. "Hello Mrs. Turner, it has been quite a while since our last discussion, and under the circumstances I feel as though we should have talked more often."

Cecelia catches her breath, hand rested on her wallet with the photo of her remaining family, remembering what she must do in order to save herself and District eight. "I feel quite the same way, President Snow. There are many issues that are currently befalling District 8 at this moment."

"I know about that Mrs. Turner, I am the president after all," he laughs quietly, prompting Cecelia to joke along as well. "I must congratulate you on the latest victory for District eight. It was due time as well. With Woof's passing this year it was quite unfortunate. He was quite the favorite District 8 victor for a while. And little Niccety is going to be a favorite for quite a while."

"Certainly I hope she will be a favorite. From what i hear, she is a divisive figure."

Snow holds up a clipboard, adorning a pair of opera glasses that he pulled from his pinned corsage. "Ah yes, currently 34th from the top from what our ranking tells us. If we see Ms. Burnage for quite longer then I think that she'll become a favorite underdog."

"I hope so too, President Snow," Cecelia says simply.

"I believe that is all the matters we have today Mrs. Turner. I will talk to you when our latest wakes up. Give Shawn my warmest regards, and happy healing to our latest girl," Snow said icily, hanging up the call. His footsteps walking out of the tribute building's infirmary seemingly is heard through the hung up receiver, leaving Cecelia to shiver as she waits anxiously for her tribute to wake up from intensive care in the comfort of her room.

"Cecelia," Shawn asked after the end of the call, placing a hand on the elder victor. "Was she trained?"

"I-I don't-t, I don't know," she said hesitantly. "She must have been, I don't know where she could have gotten a skill like that. She said she's just on the streets right? I'm not a street kid, so I can't have a chance for understanding."

"You can tell by the way she walks. She's a street kid. If only Woof was here. Aren't you the only non-street kid victor out of all of us 5? On the streets you notice things, just things in general. She walked the walk, talked the talk, and was able to hold herself in the face of danger. Skinny but had a look in her eyes that she wanted to change, that's a street kid's general disposition. The division is clear."

"When you put it like that then its obvious," Cecelia drabbles. She looks at Shawn, flashing him a look of understanding that can only mean that the end of the conversation is coming. Shawn takes the hint, going back to his post games routine of calling the families of his tribute's victims or his tribute's family.

In the infirmary, the girl stirs. Her brain activity readings mean that she's dreaming but even with Capitol tech they wouldn't use the dream reading technology on a District 8 street urchin. So her dreams are private, the last of her privacy after the horrors of the arena. She was an upset, she knew she'd be an upset with her devoted fans, but that's District 8 on good victories more often than not.

She dreams. Her dreams are odd, like always, but after the arena they turn nightmarish, just like every other victor before her. Pictures of her father, a veteran peacekeeper who took her in after the woman he procreated with disappeared off of the face of the earth, who sought to protect the small District urchin at every cost, fade in and out of existence repeatedly. They're replaced with her half-dozen victims, the girl from 4, the boy from 5, the two from 6, the girl from 9 and the girl from District 11.

Turning in her bed means that she's slowly getting more awake, but she's trapped in her prison. Trapped with the mentions of the spiraling insanity of the circular maze of concentric circles. Her arena was simple in nature but confounding in design. She whimpers in her sleep as the blood in her dreams circle around her, suffocating her into a pool.

At first sight of her awakening a day later, Coriolanus Snow calls Cecelia Turner, wishing to discuss the usual matters. "Hello Mrs. Turner, if you would also get Mr. Baker on the line then that would be appreciated. I also am inclined to tell you that both Ms. Mason and Mr. Kurkis are on the line. We have a large issue to talk about at this moment."

"Yes President Snow," Cecelia says quietly. She hastily beckons her only living coworker, with the taller man bending over to see the screen. Also showing up in the shot was a screen depicting the mentors from below. "Alright, I think that we are all here. What happens to be the issue, Mr. President?"

The sneer on President Snow's face grows wide as he glances at all four of the mentors. "You are aware of the actions of the Districts previously, is this correct?"

Johanna scoffs before looking to the screen with a hateful glare. "Of course, it's our home, not that we participated in any of that shit."

"Hehe, Johanna, always of such vulgar mouth," Snow calls out patronizingly. "But of course that you victors were smart enough to not participate in the uprising. I have full faith in you all that you made and continue to make the right decision."

"Terribly sorry Mr. President," Blight speaks up, scratching at his beard. "But is there a reason that you called us all to arms?"

"Ah, thank you for reminding me. Mrs. Turner, Mr. Kurkis, Mr. Baker, Ms. Mason, I do not recall if I told this story, but when the Hunger Games were in their natal stages, the late victors: Lupus Marterus, Torrent Swell, Leif Vanas, Romulus Cobalt, Acacia Quills, Legume Nitrate, Leopold Mustang, Gerrian Tomion, Spindelly Dicer, and Current Ripper all were offered training academies. Of them, Misters Marterus, Swell, Vanas, Cobalt, Mustang, and Ripper all accepted. The rest declined."

"...What?" Cecelia replied simply.

"We all could have had academies…" Shawn drawls.

"Then what's the point?" Johanna asked abrasively.

"Your districts are under much scrutiny from inside forces, just waiting to rebel, and those Districts are getting so much more violent. With Ms. Burnage in the state that she is in right now, I can only warn of the worst coming up in such volatile Districts."

"Then what would you like us to do?" Shawn asked.

"Oh, it's simple. For the protection of your Districts, and so we don't have another scandal, I think that it is best that we give both of your Districts a fighting chance, much like your cohorts in Districts 1, 2, 4, and 9."

"So...an academy…" Cecelia asks warily.

"Very much so Cecelia. This is a gift from the Capitol to the Districts, and would greatly impact how they perform in future Hunger Games." The plan he gives is detailed and lengthy, so much that none of the four victors can comprehend the full grasp.

"Understood Mr. President. We may need the time to discuss it with our other victors," Cecelia explains. "Once Niccety wakes up we'll let you know if she is for the plan."

"Thank you Mrs. Turner, and I'll let our friends in District 7 talk to Mr. Annistar so that they may confirm the plan." At that final sentence the call ended, leaving Cecelia and Shawn staring at a black screen.

One look in each of their eyes, and they know that it's not going to be a popular decision back home. Accusations of kissing up to the Capitol, betraying their true cause, selling out their children, the opportunities of malice are endless. "But I think we should do it," Shawn pipes up. "The streets with the peacekeepers aren't going to get lighter and maybe we'll give some of the towns kids a chance."

"I am on the same line of thought as you. With what happened in the last 3 years...I think...we should do it, if only to lay low for a while. WE can tell the trainees not to volunteer, just only if they want to, but I think that this is what we need to stall for time."

They ask Niccety three hours later as she's fully awakened. She knows that she has to say yes. Her father gave her the small blades to work around, to master, and it helped her. Even in her broken state, she says yes in the daintiest of voices. While she never recovered, the tributes of District 8 were better prepared for the Hunger games come the end of the decade, but she'd never see. She'd always try to keep her eyes shut.

* * *

Hey Guys, Hopps here

Long while without an update, and updates are going to be infrequent due to Tremble being updated concurrently. This is what I managed to scrape through for Niccety, and it was a vital chapter. With Woof's death, Shawn is the only male victor of District 8. And with Legume's death the previous year the first decade of victors is no more. So we begin a new era, one where 7, 8, and 9 all have their long overdue academies, setting the scene for the next couple of decades-who knows if it actually works? Niccety didn't really get the spotlight in her chapter, and for that I apologize, but some victors happen to have more presence. Anywhoo, next chapter is probably going to take a while, so I'm sorry to keep you waiting

Hopping out

Hopps


	79. Crockett Mistic

_**Victor #79;**_

 _ **Name: Crockett Mistic**_

 _ **District: 04**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 078**_

 _ **Death: 151, Siren**_

Kill #1: Elesa Macintosh, 15 years old, 5' 3", Volunteer, 21st place

The reaped cast of tributes that year is strong. The construction of academies, what Crockett was alerted to, showed in the reapings of the middle Districts. He looks at all the reapings nervously, he's heard of the uprisings in 3, 8, and 11. With 8 owning an academy, they may accept them into the alliance, as well as 7 and 9, since they're the strongest Districts out of the careers.

Crockett looks on the screen as he speaks fluidly with his partner, a 17 year old volunteer named Sawa. Crockett's always been good with people despite his reclusive upringing. The conversation lulls as an oddity occurs in District 3. There's a volunteer. A girl, bone thin, holds her hand up for an 18 year old girl who would undoubtedly stand a better chance, but it doesn't look like she has anything to lose either way. Her name, Elesa Macintosh, rings in his head as he watches for her through the training days.

On the first day of training the 6 career districts all join up, determining who would be willing to join. There are 4 volunteers overall from 7, 8, and 9. The boys from those districts volunteer to show off their strength, but Crockett can tell that their muscles are for show and trumps them all when using long ranged weapons. Still, he slings an arm around their shoulders and treats them as friends, despite the 9 boy's gruffness.

Sawa gets the attention of the District 3 volunteer, the only one outside of the careers, and Elesa walks up to Crockett with an offer in hand. "Sorry, I'm not the leader," he says smoothly. "Talk to Fenrir from 2 or Ruth from 7, they'll see if you can come in, but it might not be likely."

"That's...That's...That's…" she stutters and twitches. "I don't want that. Kill me, please. Make it quick. If I jump they'll call my family out and kill them."

With an odd look in his eyes, he nods and dismisses her. They don't have contact for the rest of those training days. The third kill of the bloodbath, she runs up to Crockett and he buries a knife in her head, killing her instantly. A bit of regret swells in his mouth, and it never goes away. Even after he finds out that the girl and her friends destroyed capitol edifices, the regret in his mouth doesn't even shrink.

Kill #2: Flutter Surgest, 14 years old, 5' 4", Reaped, 14th place

He barely meets the girl during training. She's just like every other District 5 girl reaped for the arena. Background in track and field, a bit of swimming at the reservoir, loves sparks, just like every other girl. She's one of 10 he looks for training, but nothing ever comes up. He pushes her to the back of his mind like all the other fodder tributes, her 5 not helping her stand out at all.

On stage, after his calm and successful interview, only aided by his natural charm and good looks, the nondescript girl takes her place on the stage. She's one of the simpering fools that he'd laugh at with his cohorts in the Aqueduct. She doesn't do much, tells stories but they bring her to tears, and sympathy claps are heard elsewhere.

He doesn't pay much mind to her, not her her stories about her brother who has a tendency to get hurt, her sister who is on her 6th boyfriend in 8 months, nothing. When he throws a spear at her back, he feels little but customary regret.

Kill #3: Rindo Stephills, 18 years old, 5' 9", Reaped, 12th place

Like the girl before Rindo, Crockett pulls up nothing on the skinny 18-year-old from District 5. After the 11 person bloodbath that claimed both from 3, both from 5, both from 6, the reaped boy from 7, the girl from 10, the girl from 11, and both from 12, his alliance mate, Vividity from District 1, the flirt, tells Crockett about him.

"He's gullible, doesn't get out much, that's for sure. He's probably wrapped around the girl from District 12 as we speak. I met up with him after training day 1, saw what he wanted, but didn't get much of him besides the fact that he's packing, quite a bit. Gotta wonder how lucky that girl is," she giggles. She made 2 kills in the bloodbath like everyone else. It's a balanced career pack, easy enough for a small island boy like Crockett to be overshadowed.

After a day where the only death is the weakest of the 3 outlier volunteers, the boy from 9, Dylan, and Crockett move out. Of the careers, Dylan hasn't made a kill, the only one, but has caused injuries. Crockett listens to him as he claims that the 12 girl and 11 boy wandered off towards a large cove. After 15 minutes of walking to supposed cove, Dylan is restless, and Crockett is at wits end listening to Dylan's monologue about how he'll kill.

He gets worried about Dylan, remembering the 11 scoring tribute, on par with the boy from 2 and a point higher than the rest of the career pack. But Dylan calms down when Crockett hears rustling in the bushes. Grabbing both the girl from 12 and the boy from 11 in his hands. Dylan's smile grows poisonous as he walks to the girl, rope and knife in his hands, with a club to disable her legs.

Crockett makes a decision to kill the 11 boy quickly with a stab to the heart, sparing him from torture, not like the District 12 girl at Dylan's hands. Crockett looks on with steely eyes but a fast thumping heart as the girl is mutilated. Dylan looks for his next victim before arguing with Crockett. At 16 years old, Crockett stands at 6'2" and is bulkier and 2 inches taller than his ally, but he didn't score the 11 and Dylan wants him to know about it.

They return to camp with an uneasy peace, hearing the 2 cannons fire behind them. The 2 boy greets them and lets them have the first pick at their luxurious dinner. Of course, the peace won't last.

Kill #4: Vividity Airrew, 17 years old, 5' 8", 9th place

The end of the career alliance is something that they were all fighting for. Of the group, they have dwindled to Vividity, Fenrir, Crockett, Ruth, and Dylan. Dylan's tortured another girl to death, the girl from 8, and another outlier is unaccounted for. Tensions are high. That much is sure.

Crockett has seen it, he's sure Sawa has seen it, and he knows the end of the alliance is near. The night after the seventh day in the arena, Crockett wakes up. His bags are packed, knife in hand, spear attached to his back thanks to the arena equipment, and he needs to move. He shoots up in the dead of night, but Dylan is up. They have a tentative alliance, yes, but even then Crockett is a bit scared. He shares a steely gaze with Dylan.

Their communication is close, as usual. Like it or not for the District 4 volunteer, they are close, he knows about him and he knows about him. Dylan looks with equally glazed eyes and points to the District 1 girl, vulnerable. He knows the cannon will fire, and so does Crockett. Dylan and Crockett have good reactions, that much is sure. With a sigh, Crockett turns to Dylan, at peace. He plunges a sword in her head and her cannon goes off instantly.

The others wake up, but Dylan buys Crockett time to leave by killing the 7 girl and wounding Fenrir. Crockett leaves with a fast dash in a particular direction, armed with a backpack about the size of his butt and a spear awkwardly hanging out.

Kill #5: Buck Kipper, 16 years old, 5' 10", Reaped, 7th Place

There are two days of inaction following the collapse of the career alliance. In the final 7 as it turned out, action kind of lulls. It's boring for the Capitol and boring for the tributes. Unsurprisingly, a late night anthem signals the start of a feast, with a new cornucopia and optional attendance. Crockett looks at his now empty bag, seeing the faces spin. Yangley, his girlfriend from home, stirring in the empty cave of cloth, tells him to take care of himself. Then it's his elder brother, Davis, and he's telling the same thing. Then his mother, father, sister, brother, Yangley, they all shock him out.

He stands up, screams, and runs to the cornucopia, maddened but determined like every other victor besides him. He camps out in the trees just over yonder from the cornucopia, waiting for them to appear. Daylight is marked by a brilliant flash of light and the supplies are already there. He doesn't make the first move. It's the District 10 boy, the 16 year old who wanted to repair his stable.

There are plenty of backpacks at the feast, brimming with weapons and food and drink. Crockett slams the 16 year old into them, killing him as he tries to get up. The 4 boy looks up and finds Dylan on the outskirts of the cornucopia. He chucks a backpack at him and Dylan dodges but it gives Crockett enough time to escape. Sad for Crockett to say, but Killing has gotten easier.

Kill #6: Philomena Cardius, 18 years old, 5' 7", Volunteer, 4th Place

Two people were lost in the feast, the boy from 10 and the boy from 1. There were 2 rogue careers that year, the boy from 1 and the girl from 2. He hasn't had a chance to talk to either of them. Bloodthirsty and beautiful, they could very well have been Capitol models, as the gossip says. All District 2 girls are skilled with knives but Philomena is also skilled in the flail, the sword, a real jack of all trades.

He comes across her while sleeping. The final 4 and mistakes are costly. Like Vividity many days before, he kneels in front of her, and grabs a pillow, a customary sponsor gift from District 4's loyal sponsors and uses it to cut off the poor girl's airways. She flails about but Crockett holds on, and the cannon fires. After pushing the bile back down, like he's always done, he moves on, regretful but hopeful, and the second cannon firing means he's that much closer to home.

Kill #7: Dylan Sinders, 17 years old, 6' 0", Volunteer, Second Place

The finale arrives when Dylan Sinders wanders into the cave Crockett has made camp in. it's the 14th day of the arena and the final 2, the 11 scoring 'underdog' and the 10 scoring classic career. Dylan's footsteps echo in the cave of Crockett's home. He's insane. "Come out little prawn," Dylan sneers. "Let's play a last game. And make it extra special for you and your girlfriend back home. I wonder what part I'll remove first." Abruptly he lunges at a stalagmite, knocking it down, finding no one there."

Crockett waits with baited breath as he prepares for the final battle. Weapon in hand, guards locked, defensive assumed, he steps out, alerting the 9 boy to his presence. Dylan snaps his head behind him, facing his final opponent. He continues to talk as they advance towards each other. It's a quick brawl that ends with Crockett on top and disabling Dylan. Dylan thinks that his former ally is going to be honorable, killing him quickly.

He's wrong, so very wrong. Crockett's killing the villain of the Hunger Games and the death has to be something painful. An array of knives has Dylan's name engraved on it. "How was it that you killed that 12 girl? Let her bleed out?" Crockett asks, plunging a knife into his shoulder. Blood erupts from the wound but Crockett keeps him down. "Or were you too cruel to do that?"

Dylan thrashes and tries to get the stronger boy off of him but that's it, the boy on top is stronger than he expected. Crockett allows the grin on his face to expand as he leans close, sliding a butterfly knife out from his pocket and uses it to cut the underside of his eyes. Feeling coy, Crockett preads out Dylan's legs, knowing he's helpless to stop him, and keeps it there, feeling him thrash as he slowly bleeds from his shoulder. Death isn't quick, no matter how many cuts, how many abrasions, how many taunts, and it's at this point Crockett gets the title of "Cruelty's Angel". The trumpets profess his victory, and his hands are tainted with even more blood.

Kill #8: Crockett Mistic, 16 years old, 6' 2", Volunteer, "Victor"

His death is more gradual. STarted the moment he enrolled in the career academy, seeing more of the Hunger Games than revealed through broadcasts thanks to the involvement of the trainers, former victors themselves. Under the tutilage of Finnick Odair he learns the horrors. How every single victor reaches a breaking point, and it''s obvious to see, the lengths every victor will go to, the extent of the horrors.

But the lessons aren't hammered in until Crockett becomes thee victor of hunger games 78. With every death, a part of him died, with every death, a part of him was lost. Yet, it would be regained once he married Yangley, but lessons sometimes take a while to learn. ANd he'd learn again once his baby girl made it home from the arena. It would be at that point, he realizes that he killed the wrong villain.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Alright, I think I'm getting back into ACAH momentum after my SYOT has started, so I hope to get to the 4th quarter quell by my Thanksgiving break, if possible. Crockett's chapter was mainly built on his sanity slippage culminating in his final torture of Dylan. Yeah, Dylan really has a more gruesome end than I could show here, so if you want to see, I'll tell you.**

 **Anyways I hope you liked this chapter, and give me some input. Also, sorry about not putting in the victor's deaths. With however many characters we have right now, listing them all would be a bit daunting. So there are funerals yes, and every victor is allowed to go, but not all of them do. That's the general gists.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **P.S. check out my new SYOT, you may earn sponsor points, sorry for not letting you guys submit**


	80. Hellion Darsi

_**Victor #80;**_

 _ **Name: Hellion Darsi**_

 _ **District: 05**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 079**_

 _ **Death: 149, Bandit**_

"How's it going up there?"

"Camera's almost finished resting on its shelf, so we can get the perfect candid shots," I reply. Looking down I see Stark smile cheekily and rest on a table. "While you're down there can you hand me a socket head cap screw?"

I bend down on the ladder as he hands me the screw, hands touching as I give him a kiss for reward. "Finish up right there and we can kiss each other longer," he teases.

"Hold your horses, I'm almost done." With a final turn of the screwdriver, I fix the camera up high in our living room in perfect view of our couch. I slide down the ladder and turn into the storage room to keep my kit. Life hasn't always been easy after the Hunger Games but photography and Stark have helped me through. I brush the dust off of one of the more recent albums already covered in that stuff and walk out with it, finding myslef in Stark's strong arms.

"Didn't you promise me that we could kiss longer after that?"

"Yes I did, but I know it pains my husband to see all this hot stuff not ready for him yet."

He growls lightly before locking my arms over his head and causing the photo album to fall to his feet. "Scum, you knnow how impatient I am when a hot guy like you is within my grasp." He bends his head forward to growl in my face, locking my forehead in place as he continues to growl. I stare at him with equally steely eyes before relenting and pulling him in for a kiss. It only lasts a while before I turn the tables and knock him on his back on the soft carpet. "Surge degen…" he mutters.

"Skip out on your gym today? What will your students think?"

"It's the weekend, we're keeping this between us. Of couse I'd still kick your ass."

"You got what you wanted, didn't you?"

"And it was a lovely kiss. So why do you have a photo album?"

"I thought we could look through it. They bring me back. The one I picked...yeah, it's green so that's my 18 year old album. You know. I haven't looked at it for years."

"Hey, no worries," he says calmly. Stark has always been an energetic person, the kind to reach his hand out even being the jock he was when we schooled together. "I forgot to tell you. History needs to have a victor talk in their class sometime this week. Being the head of that-"

"I've came over every year since our marriage 2 years ago, you know I'm going to come"

"Well I already told my students that, the 10 year olds, so we're going to have to tone it down."

I nod silently as I slide the book over to us. District 5 is the second most homophobic District in Panem after District 3, I'm thinking that Stark and I get a pass because of me being victor. I hold his muscled but tender hands in mine as I open a long closed book.

The first image in the album is me with the victor's crown. "What kind of story is this? They spoil the ending on the first page. At least it's a happy ending," Stark mockingly grumbles. The boy in the picture is a strong built boy, about average height of 5'10" and with vibrant blond hair. His eyes in the photo hold a wear after 16 days in the arena for an average hunger games. "I mean he's pretty hot," Stark comments. "You can see his abs through his dress shirt and his calves through his pants."

I smile oddly as he looks on. He knows what the victors have to do, what the victors must, but he knows that I'm 100% loyal to him. "Wonder where those abs went," I add.

He runs his hands along my stomach and looks cutely into my eyes. He's always had a lovely shade of blue eyes under his blond hair. "Right there, with 2 more just to be safe."

With a small smile I turn the page, clutching his hand even tighter as we turn to reaping day, where the two unlucky souls are picked from the crowd. The boy in the pictures was relaxed, almost sure that he'd escape after the 15 year old girl was picked. But with the minimal amount of tesserae he signed up for, he was reaped. His boyfriend, a year older, looks on in grief with his horde of jock friends as the boy takes to the stage shaken but standing tall. I look back at stark and see him swinging his arm around me as if reliving that day alongside me takes him to a dark place. "I didn't want you to throw your life for little old me. We were only dating a year and a half at that point."

"But you were my life back then, just like you are now," he says tenderly. His cute angular face is enough for me to kiss him lightly on the nose and I turn the page to the chariots. The boy from District 5 is scantily clad in shocking restraints that stimulate his muscles. "You were pretty attractive in that."

"I guess I was, but...you know that's where that got me." I hold his hand tighter and nuzzle my hair against his cheeks, feeling him recoil but laugh as he turns the page. It's much more bearable looking through this with him. Then it's the boy on interview night, with the capitol stylists acting as ditzy as usual and sending in the 'handsome' boy in a pair of skin tight pants and open buttoned shirt. "What angle they were going to go for, it worked," I say coldly.

"Hey, do you want to close the album?"

"Maybe we can look through the rest another day. I know how the story ends. It's not that happy of an ending, no matter how bright the bright spots are."

"You came back. That has to be enough, right?"

Looking into his blue eyes I run my hand through his blond hair and sneak in a kiss. "Coming back to you, fuck yes. I'll keep going. You don't have to stay if you want, I know you have papers to grade."

"The man in front of me is more important than any of the kids I'm going to grade." Affirmed, I place my hand in his again and turn the page with my other hand. I flip to the bloodbath in the standard multi terrain arena. Yes, it's been used many times before-even as recent as 5 years ago at the point in the photo. The boy from District 5 accidentally kills another girl as they both charge for the same backpack and pushes her into a rack of weapons. He flees from the rest of the 9 person carnage. I breathe heavily and turn to the next page.

It's the boy encountering a horde of platypus mutts. The much thriving but still small population has its relatives fight in the arena over a tree. Their hunt kills the boy from District 4 and wounds the girl from District 11, and when the boy from District 5 fights them off, he's rewarded with a medical kit and a knife.

On the 8th day of the Hunger Games, the boy makes a kill of the boy from District 8 when he gets jumped. The boy is hardening and the bloodstains on his clothes aren't coming off no matter how many times he washes the set or bathes. Next to the photo of the boy bathing is an article complimenting his pecs.

The final 8 comes 2 days later. At eighth place the boy from 5 murders the girl from District 1, with the battle known as the crowning of the blonds, as the boy and the girl were the only blonds in the arena. The gamemakers crank up the heat, and the humidity. The boy from 5 is considered the most attractive boy in the arena. After the death of the boy from 2 at the hands of the unfavorite outlier, the boy from 5 shoots to popularity after killing the arrogant 3 boy.

The actual finale is a large one, with the boy from 5, the girl from District 4, the girl from District 2, and the boy from District 10. In the lake, fire wages just beyond the boundaries. The two girls take each other out, and the boy from District 5 drowns the District 10 boy. He's crowned the victor in the bloodied water and barely hangs onto the ladder that brings him up.

Interview night is on the next page, where he confesses his love for his long term but secret boyfriend, Stark Jarvis, after years of being in a relationship, breaking the hearts of 100% of his fans. Of course, I know that the boy doesn't have nearly a happy ending as the boy does when he returns home. His family is happy to have him back, but his younger sister and father give him a wide berth as he kisses Stark in the light of the sun.

Stark's friends back away smiling but clearly uneasily as the District 5 boy proposes to his boyfriend on the spot, with the boy's shop manager walking up to him. The manager fires him with the highest of regards, but he's in better hands now, and offers to help pay for the wedding. The photo album ends on the Reception Dinner, with the two newly wed men at the head of the table, holding hands in front of a loud but private party.

I sigh loudly and close the book, standing up and moving to the kitche, pouring out our pot roast meal. Stark places his hand on my shoulder and helps guide the food to the bowl. "I know it was hard to read through that," he says quietly, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I turn off the stove and turn to him, tears in my eyes but a smile that conveys all that I love to him. "It's getting better."

"With you, every day that passes, it definitely is." At that statement I bring him down for a kiss that he reciprocates hungrily. I pull away and grab the pot roast. "How were the students this week?"

"Bullying incident," he says simply, clearing the dining room table for the meal. "Kind of reminded me when I was 9 years old. I've told you this, haven't I?" Intrigued, I shake my head no, and begin to eat as he tells his story. "I was a big bully. You know, rich kid, pampered and all that? Strong and tall, at least that's what I think some of my victims thought. There was this one boy, blond hair like yours, one of 9 others in the school. He was short to me but average but seemed kind of weak. It was fun to poke fun of him, and he always got flustered, but always took it. I felt bad by 11 years old, but I couldn't find him."

"Really? What did you call this boy?"

"I don't really know. I remember an old insult called Surge Dancer, Yellow Eyed Pickle-who knows where that came from? I stopped bullying when my friends and I entered the wrestling team, 13 years old. It kind of gave me an outlet."

"Didn't you try to recruit me for the team?"

"Yeah, that's how we met, didn't we? I saw you coming out of shop class with dirt and strong muscles, thought you were cute, but pushed that out and walked up, asking if you wanted to hang out, get a feel for the team. I was really excited when you said yes."

"Then at a while later, you asked me if you liked guys like you did. I never thought about it, but I said yes. Then at 16 you took me on a date."

"And...you fell in love with a bully. Didn't you tell me you were a bullying victim?"

I open my mouth to speak and remember my childhood bully. One of three blond guys including me, blue eyes, tall, strong,- "That's in the past," I say abruptly. "Stark, if you can forgive me for forcing you to see your boyfriend do that shit in the Hunger Games, I can and will forgive you for bullying me. I love you."

"Thank you. I know it's nothing compared to what you been through, but you've always been the more resolute of us. And the more forgiving." A half smile breaks from his lips as he slices the roast and scoops some rice. "I told those kids to knock off the bullying, they listened."

"If they knew how strong of a teacher they had, they would have. Of course, you're freakishly tall and strong. But I wouldn't change my husband any other way." I finish my plate and slide the dish into the dishwater, stopping behind Stark and massaging his muscled back. "Let's see if we can get this wrestler to loosen up. It's a big day tomorrow, we're meeting with your jock friends. Wouldn't they want a rematch?"

"They want a rematch, they're going to get their asses handed to them," he says as he drops his utensils. "But tonight _my ass is yours._ "

"Starky boy, you have that wrong. You'll have my ass before the end of the night."

"Are you fighting me as to where you want to end up?"

"Winner picks, and when I win, I'm taking you all in."

"Said the house husband to the wrestler."

"Said the teacher to the victor."

He snaps his head back, flashing his steely glare that he was known for in his days of wrestling. I match him and lean in, close enough to feel his fuming breath. "I love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **Sorry for the suggestive material, and for the delay. It was a bit of a more limit look this time, so I hope you guys don't mind this kind of narrative. I've been hard at work at my summer class and it's been eating at me. Well, I hope you like Hellion and Stark, we may see more of Hellion in the future, but next chapter is probably going to be a bit more sloppy.**

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	81. Striker Mirtsy

_**Victor #81;**_

 _ **Name: Striker Mirtsy**_

 _ **District: 02**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 80**_

 _ **Death: 148, Piper**_

"Nothing is set in stone." It's an ironic statement from the true mining District. He knows it well.

Striker has heard variations of it from his line of work- "Buildings always fall: Boats aren't unsinkable: Nests are only temporary…"

Frankly it's enough to let his head bleed, but be that as it may, it's rung through time and time again.

 _Two months before the reaping-1 day before bloodbath_

News break on the televisions in the common eating rooms and in the private vicotr offices. District 4 has been hit by a hurricane. It's a rare sight, and the Hurricane traveled further in to District 10, destroying countless of miles of forestry and injuring over 500 hundred while killing a hundred. The Districts will take time to recover, considering the Hurricane-dubbed Hurricane Maysilee after an infamous rebellious tribute-traveled through, in order, District 4's academy, 4's victor's graveyard, miles and miles of the empty forest, and 3 of DIstrict 10's meat packing factories.

"Don't expect a pair of volunteers from District 4 this year," Crockett Mistic, the blunt but brutal victor from 2 years before says. "We want to give the best to the Hunger Games as soon as possible, and we doubt that the state of District 4's academy at this moment will provide that."

The careers that year fall back onto the back up careers, 7, 8, and 9, for the status quo. Striker recruits the Eight boy but that's about it. It's a smaller pack of Five people that year, but its a lethal group. The 8 boy scores an 8, on par with STriker, which humbles him.

Because of that 8 he doesn't think that he's a worthy volunteer. There's no time to sulk in the days after training as he goes through coaching to be a proper and caring gentleman while his body is trimmed just so one more time after one more time. The District 4 tributes are just average teenagers, strong but unskilled, and clumsy with their double 7's. They were too much of a liability to add to the career alliance that year. District 8 holds their own while the other semi careers, 7 and 9, don't stand out as much as the others, being a quartet of moderate but reaped tributes.

 _Bloodbath_

It's a typical guarantee that the careers are all able to survive the bloodbath. If it weren't for the vegan from District 10 then it'd remain true. The stupid girl takes off one of her shoes and throws it at the nearest, a District 1 boy whose charms captivated the audience. The Gamemakers make the executive decision to blow her up as well, and the wind picks up to scatter her blood to the rest of the tributes.

The arena is a bog. Smelly and slow to maneuver, the typical rush to the bloodbath is non existent this year as the careers begin hopping from crate to crate. They take advantage of the crate to slaughter 6 more tributes before the others flee. Two more cannons fire before the end of the day, drowned, one purposefully and one accidentally.

 _Day 8- The feast_

The four remnants of the careers survive to the day of the feast, where they agree to disband after the event itself. The District 8 boy is wary about going alone but STriker clamps a hand on his shoulder and reassures him, he'll be fine, and he'll be alright. The boy takes his advice to heart, like he always had when killing that 3 boy at the final 13.

Striker doesn't expect the hunger games to end that day, and quite frankly, neither do any of the careers. The games have ended at feasts before, the earliest being Spindelly Dicer's long gone Hunger games, and occuring again with Tscharner's year. There probably were instances of more games that ended at the feast, but when the shock of the day, the District 4 girl, throws her knife into the bubbling structure that's the mud cornucopia, Striker doesn't have anymore time to dwell on the peculiarity.

The bubbling cornucopia begins to expand, a final battlefield for the last 7 survivors. It's the career alliance of District 2, the District 1 girl, and the boy from District 8 at the forefront of the action. The girl from District 4 was the one who triggered all the violence in the first place. District 10's boy has just arrived but is clearly bleeding from an out district attack. District 12's girl, another shock, is stumbling in just after the boy from District 10, crazed blood in her eyes and an ever present twitchy smile.

The bubbling cornucopia explodes and drops a plethora of weapons. The District 10 boy and the District 12 girl are crushed by heavy cannons that fall and signal their demise. One by one, more cannons enclose the last 5 survivors as they scramble to the rest of the weapons. The girl from District 4 has been hiding something, and takes out the other 2 girls almost without breaking a sweat.

Her next target is the District 8 boy. Fueled by jealously she drives her weapon, a sickle, into his back, and gleefully laughs before her head is cut in half by a bladed disc thrown by the 2 boy. He ducks the three latest cannon firings and runs to his final ally, his final opponent. Even in his dying moments, he smiles. "Good job," the boy says meekly. "I always liked District 2. Ironic, isn't it?"

Striker can't speak, he's looking at the smiling boy as his life draws to an end. "Hey, don't speak, you won this for your District. I'm already dead you know? Right? I mean it hurts, but at least I have a friend, right? You are my friend?"

"Yes," Striker chokes out in his deep voice. "Yes. I'm sorry taht this had to happen."

"No worries" the 8 boy says like always. "I don't have anyone at home besides the training academy. When you come, don't forget about me, alright?"

"I won't. And thanks for joining. I didn't get the chance to thank you for all you've done."

"Not … a...prob…" he dies midsentence and honestly, Striker feels a pang of sadness, but he shoves it down and looks to the sky in victory as the trumpets ring out. He'll honor the boy from 8, Frazier deserved at least that much, if not more.

 _Victory Tour_

When he shows up in District 8 several months later for the victory tour, the District is quite a bit angry. Not at him no, they're still mad at the capitol. They hold respect for District 2 even if they're ideals are the total opposite. The weakest of the semi careers and the strongest of the careers are bound to differ. But the relationship between district 2 and district 8 is respectful and honoriffic, held from a long gone romance between two victors of the past.

"Thank you District 8 for your honored welcoming," Striker starts up. He's always been good at public speaking and it's his words in general that seems to calm down the riled up district for the year. "It was an honor to have one of your finest warriors as a treasured friend. His legacy should be proud of who Frazier was, a great warrior, a brilliant friend, an amazing citizen, and a worthy runner up."

The district listens to the rest of his speech, and treat him with respect or even adoration. Yes, District 2 and District 8 are the weirdest friendship districts of them all. It isn't until dinner that night he learns of the loving but rocky relationship held between each of their District's first.

 _History Class_

He attempts to join the schooling system of District 2. New textbooks have been sent the day after the victory tour with an emphasis on District 2. It's an odd sight to see that he has a chapter entirely devoted on him. At this point Striker learns that his life is no longer private, his 2 siblings meticulously covered, his parents scrutinized, and his character subject to interpretation. He still sits through the class, becoming an amateur historian, making it his talent when inquired by the capitolitans.

History has some unexpected results. He has an urge to pry into the unreleased documents, an urge to question the decisions of the past, and it's to his shock when the president, the still working Snow, grants him access to the presidential library. He learns things that he's not sure that Snow knows, and keeps it a secret.

Of course, if his experience with Finnick is anything to teach him by, secrets are meant to be spilled.

 _Family_

Three years after his victory he marries his love, a strong woman at 6' even but with the brains of the rocks she mines. She doesn't think that she's smart enough for him, but Striker reassures her every night, teaching her how to be smart in her own way, and he learns some things of her own. His wife, Martha, is a pious woman and helps him learn about an old religion, some that they say is long gone but to her it's thriving even in her small family. She believes in a higher power than the capitol and helps him believe to.

A year later, they have a set of two healthy baby boys that look like they'll grow as strong as their mother and as wise as their father. Striker teaches them their religion, keeping it quiet, becuase little does Striker know, he is a rebel as well. That old belief about non binary comes into play much later in life. Non binary isn't well regarded upon in Panem, and Uncle-no Aunt Canus who'd prefer to be called Charlotte among friends empathizes with Striker's younger twin.

Striker isn't sure how he feels about Yorlen wishing to be called Yarra, it's a bit weird to him and he takes weeks to accept it. When he does, he loves his daughter as much as he loves his family. He also feels a new respect for Charlotte and Levora, who Yarra sees as the only people who understand what she's going through.

 _Rebellion_

Their numbers in 2 are small. Lyme, him, and Charlotte at one point are the most profilic members. Martha works where she can even as a self styled working house wife, Charlotte and the only member of his family he still communicates with are passing messages past rivers and into the other Districts.

It takes many seeds to spread a rebellion and the tiny sprouts in District 2 can be enough to break a building.

Just give it time.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Sorry for the wait, school and the SYOT really did a number on my updating schedule. I'm sorry for over a month without updates. And to think, when I first started this I actually had 7 updates come out within a week! Anyways, I'm sorry if this chapter wasn't as good as the last one, so I may take things about this length for a while, just under 2000 words or so if that seems fine. Anyways, if you're new here, I hope you liekd this, and I hope that you continue to wait.**

 **Thank you guys for reading, I dont' say this enough, but I appreciate it**

 **Hopping out**

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	82. Fione Ruffwild

_**Victor #82;**_

 _ **Name: Fione Ruffwild**_

 _ **District: 10**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 81**_

 _ **Death: 133, Kyrenia**_

With a sly smirk I draw my sword out of my last noteworthy opponent. Rubidus looks like he's about to say something final but I cut him off, not wanting to hear his final words before his cannon fire. I have no idea what the victors say, eight kills and it only seems to be getting easier. The boom of a cannon shoots through the arena. I half expect to hear the trumpets ring for me, as I've been trained, wait for the hovercraft to fall down with the ladder to take me home.

But as the realization hits, I sigh dramatically and flip my hair back, this time waiting for another care package from a coveted sponsor. I relax lazily in one of a few rocks in this dense thicket that encompasses the entirety of the arena. In the 13 days I've been here there are only three clearings that I've seen. Two of them have played host to the bloodbath of the feast and the opening bloodbath. Only one of the clearings has water.

Night falls as I dwell sexily on a rock. I clean my hands with a washcloth that one of my sponsors so candidly handed over to me, flaunting what I have to the audience in order to get more as sponsor prices go up. When I see the night sky light up with Rubidus, the monster from District 2, I can only be sure that my odds of victory have gone to 100%. District 1 is likely to bring the crown home again.

"See that Molly?" I talk to one of the hidden cameras. "Almost home to you. And see that Justin? Almost home to you and your sweet, sweet lips. And to my audience, thank you for sticking along, trust me when I'll be back soon."

It's the flirtation that the audience loves. I just keep them hooked and hooked. Few tributes have gone out of the Hunger Games with their looks, but I intend to be one of the lucky ones and get by with my looks. Who else are they going to fall back on that midget from District 10?

Ah, yeah, I've outlasted 22 others. Eight of them died at my own hands. I beat them at their own game. The bloodbath, I was a goddess as my grandmother would say about the victors of old, and killed 2 tributes at my own hands at the cornucopia. That stupid District 3 girl wanted to make bombs, I damn near decapitated her with the cord of a spool of wire. Fat luck the 24th placer got. Then that dumb District 4 boy rushed at me with a double edged trident, good thing for me that he was a weak reaped kid and died at 19th.

My mind begins racing, my blood kickign up. This isn't good. I suppose I shouldn't think about how I killed the 7th place 7 boy with his own hatchet or just now killed Rubidus with his sword. At least I take solace that our fate hasn't been as bad as District 4. With the hurricane, it will take a long time for them to keep up, and their placement has been suffering for years now. At the training academy there's talk of dropping them in general, but we know better.

Threats come from anywhere. I glance behind my shoulder instinctively, waiting for that slip of a District 10 girl to come out of the shadows, but to no avail. My mind begins to settle, thinking of that District 6 scrapper who thought he could take me on at 17th. It's only been 13 days and I want to go home, and I know I will. They tell the trainees not to get complacent in District 1, not to expect the perfect storm, but I can't help it with the perfect atmosphere and calming features. Alas, I fall asleep with my back against a rock, not realizing what I've gotten into.

 _Fione Ruffwild is a midget, like most of the other District 10 girls. She's gotten by on pure luck for the most part, hiding her tiny frame in the bushes and killing the District 9 boy when it came down to it at 13th place. She has no fans, but all the determination to get home. The determiniation showed up in killing the other morphling from District 6, who she saw as putting out of her misery at 10th. If she does, she's the latest in a line of disappointing girls to make it home to District 10._

 _Somehow she's survived against not only Federline from District 9, but Malva from District 6, and just now, Rubidus from District 2. Her last opposition is the ditz of a girl, Andalucia of District 1, and she's lethal but coky and not that smart. She's noticed how she blundered on the poisoned fruit and bombed at the fire making station, but her looks have gotten her anywhere._

 _Fione, tall for her family, glances down at her breasts instinctively and sighs, all too used to being the smallest after 13 days in the arena. Of course, sh'es always used her stature to her advantage, but still a little more room would be...nice for a lack of better words. Her fingers are locked at the symbol for 2, where she'd die if she wasn't careful, but she sets about her traps methodically and quietly, any wrong move could accidentally wake Andalucia up, and she'd be on the wrong end of the cannon fire._

I wake up to the sound of tranquility. A bird is chirping nearby, a stream patters somewhere close to me, light breezes and zephyrs rustle leaves in the branches high above me. A bit of morning dew glimmers in the distance, and I wait for a parachute to greet my day, as always.

With my mind still groggy i reach out to a fallign parachute, finding it yanked out of my hands ever too abruptly into the forest. Reluctantly I chase after it, ever teh more grateful for the latest in beauty supplies. Just as I find the parachute, I almost lose my balance in the slick grass of the morning. "Heh, don't worry my cuties, I'm not dying to something like that," I say cockily and flirtatiously.

 **You're dead** the parachute reads. I throw it away, dismal at the lame attempt of a trap. I look above me to find a tripwire located at neck's reach. Obviously it would have connected to the axe directly behind it. It's a lame attempt, and I'm not going to be duped by something as abysmal as that. With my heels high behind me, I turn back to my clearing and make it my own, finding a midget intruder at the base.

She runs away like a sheep, lost and confused at the big bad bitch of a wolf. She takes a sharp left into the woods so I take the shortest angle to reach her. It's nothing short of quick and I catch sight of her short chunky tanned frame as she hides behidn a tree. It's pathetically easy. It's pathetically easy. It's-

I duck when I hear the whistle of a tree branch dropping from above, rolling out of the way into a clearing. She still hides behind a tree and I charge at her, falling into a pit of spikes. The pain is inimagineable. I've been stabbed in a dozen locations and I can't break free. I look up at my killer with a haunting smile, satisfied at seeing her cry just before the light overtakes me.

 _In District 10 there's shock. They haven't brought anyone home in a little over 21 years. The square is as silent as a slaughterhouse when the trumpets fire. The trapper's daughter had made it home over the leather worker. She wasn't a favorite to win, but the District is ever the more grateful to have one of their own back home. Parties ring out, it's the most joyous time of District 10. The District is up from the slop as they celebrate the arrival of their latest by bringing out an old party game._

 _In District 1 there's anger. They always have been losing their best. Have been sending their best but the tribtues are just too cowardly to face their tributes in other face offs. HEll, District 10 is a dumb district, it's always been a dumb district. They're still angry at the 10 girl from the year before-Tammy- for breaking the games with her shoes. District 10 isn't liked among the careers, no it isn't and Fione does little to help change the opinion._

 _A young man looks angrily at the corpse of his sister, throwing a bottle at the screen as his soon to be wife grabs another bottle. The girl is 17 and he's 19, but the capitol and the District doesn't care. He looks at his beautiful fiance, kissing her gently. He's glad that she's his, and is a much better girl than his sister. Andalucia got the sole spot to volunteer out of his family, and he resents her for it, but no matter, his beautiful fiance will be sure to take the crown next year, and he'll reap the benefits like a loving husband should._

 _It's dangerous in the capitol. Prices for meat soar as impromptu parties spring up, funded by the payouts on the legendary bets. She's not the biggest upset, early stage Johanna Mason and Niccety Burnage proved to be among the biggest disappointments. But Fione's still not one of the loved Victors. The District 1 fans have been cheated out of yet another strong tribute. Tammy the dummy training dummies soar in popularity and they burn it over a fire, blow it up, or throw it into a pile of pits, angry at District 10._

 _Fione cares less. She recovers like every other victor, has her interview like every other victor, makes nice to the other low districts, finding that she isn't alone when it comes to controversial victories. District 12 takes her in, the husband and wife team know how to handle being controversial victors, and she fits in nicely with their little rebellious clique._

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I'm slowly getting into a groove of things, so updates may come longer and/or quicker, but I can't guarantee it with both Tremble and school grabbing at me. I kind of struggled with Fione's chapter for a while, but right now, I think I'm satisfied. Next chapter is probably going to be a weird one, so I'll have to finaggle with that format or something.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and drop a review as for your thoughts.**

 **Hopping out**

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	83. Aubrianna Adrius

_**Victor #83;**_

 _ **Name: Aubrianna Adrius**_

 _ **District: 01**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 082**_

 _ **Death: 144, Krysten**_

"Thank you for coming back to us here on the Late Night Panel of Panem," Late night host Calliope Callius says as she slowly fixes a pencil in her dark auburn bun. "With the reaping in just three days, we eagerly wait for the countdown timer to go down in talking about all Hunger Games, all the time. Now, we have just recieved word of the unfortunate death of one Brookard Cleeve, better known as the famous husband of last year's victor, Aubrianna Adrius of District 1."

Behind her on the wall of monitors images of the deceased husband with his now widowed wife appear in black and white. One of her five co-commentators, a richly tanned man named Kavorka Rittion, pats a handkerchief to his eyes and takes the next sentence. "Poor Aubrianna. Her best friend was Brookard's sister, who volunteered the year before and died at a respectable 2nd place. And now she seems to be all alone."

"True, but she's now with a whole world of opportunities in front of her. Hear that ladies and gents? Your new favorite District 1 victoress is readily available!" The newest of the team, an annoying pink haired girl named Berucia Sallind chimes in. The statuesque stunner has her numerous headshots appear on the screen, some of which are in a flirtatious tone.

"From what I hear, Aubrianna is going to be on a break for upwards of a month!" Justinus Fulvinus titters loudly. "That means she's going to be free for the entirety of the Hunger Games this year!"

The last of their crew remains silent while B-Roll footage of the newly widowed Victor plays on the screens behind them. The sexy volunteer is obviously happy at making home to her fiance, marrying him almost immediately not unlike Hellion from several years prior. But there's something off during the wedding. The last of their crew, a short guy with flame green hair and pale skin, notices the victoress almost immediately shut up when her husband holds a finger to her face.

He's seen it many times before, but he needs to confirm it. And research must be done. "Well, quite unfortunate Panem, but let's be grateful that our newest favorite victor from District 1 is alive and improving," he states. Phillip Coughard gets the signal to end and it is he who starts the ending roll call. "Join us at this time tomorrow as we rank all 82 past arenas!"

The cameras go off, the studio audience applauds lightly, and the five of them step off of the stage. Berucia and Justinus waste no time locking lips as they walk in between the audience members. Phillip feels an odd squeeze against his ass while walking backstage to the green room. "Come on Rook, let's see if we can get a night together, like always," Calliope flirts.

Phillip pushes her hand away and walks hastily to his office, packing up his bags neat and tight for the next day.

Colored in Red are his files on the victors. From that folder he pulls out Aubrianna Adrius' folder, glancing at her statistics in a quick read. She stands at 67 inches, has made 9 fabulous kills, volunteered at age 18, and scored a 10, joint highest with the girl from District 4.

Colored in Orangeare his files on the districts. He pulls out District 1, updated with statistics of the most recent reaping census. At a population of approximately one-hundred ninety thousand, a good one-hundred sixty-seven thousand, two hundred people associate as bisexual. 75% of the families are bound by heterosexual marriages though. Of the eligible youth, 2000 are enrolled in the training academy for the training program.

Colored in Yellow are his files on the weapons. Aubrianna Adrius made her way out of the hunger games on a non-feminine weapon. Using a club, she proved to be lethal and strong at the same time, seducing but intimidating most of her fanbase. Of her 9 kills, six of them were accomplished with her club-Lucille.

Colored in Green are his files on the private lives of the victors. THey're files not released to the public, obviously, and it's a hefty pack. Somehow he sees what he needs in the green folder.

Colored in the blue folder are the files on the work life of the victor. Aubrianna's talent may have been smithing but she's seen more often working clothes unfit for training and smithing. Aubrianna also helps out in the training center. He notes that she spends more than ten hours a day in the facility, more than 4 in the smithy, and at least 6 with her husband. The rest are sleeping.

Colored in Indigo are the files on victor relationships. It's the thinnest folder. The folder is cold and almost freezing in his hands. It's a thin folder, he really needs to fix it up. There's not much to say except that Districts 1, 2, and 4 make up the careers but 7,8, and 9 make up the middle district semi careers, and that districts 1 & 9, 2&8, 4&7 are really the closest relationships out there.

He slides all files into his dossier and takes a cold cab through the dark alleys into his favorite cafe hidden behind rows and rows of costume stores. It's a small cafe of ten tables and one barista. He discovered it on a whim, hungover and and high, but his memory served him well enough to recall it once it was over. Afterall, his favorite girl was the sole barista. "Hello, how may I help you today?" Berliner Kilinius asks from behing the counter under her green mowhawk and pierced eyes.

"The usual today sweet cheeks," he replies. "I apologize for the unprofessional greeting. But come on, you know my order."

"Yes I do, and youll get your dessert tonight ok?"

"Of course. Just going to analyze some files here tonight, something's fishy about Brookard Cleeve's death."

"Hmm," she ponders. "Darn shame. He was cute. But well I think Aubrianna's better off without him."

"What do you mean?"

"Brookard seemed like a douche frankly. I read one of his 'research' papers and he spent a while talking about traditional gender roles. Eww."

"Anyways, I'll check it out. That definitely seems fishy." He goes to his usual green tinted table and sits with his legs crossed as he pulls out his bulging dossier. He pulls out the thicker blue floder and pulls out her interactions with fellow victors in Panem.

Actually no. The files he has collected are of interactions between one spouse and her. Stark Jarvis and her share the headline of a photo, talking about best friends and how the Hunger Games truly bring people together. Detailed in the 3 page article are their interactions in the richest market of District 5, shopping for clothes for both them and their boorish husbands, gossiping over a cup of coffee, really a pair of girlfriends on a bright sunny day.

He flips throug the page, noting Aubrianna's entirely platonic thoughts on the husband of Hellion Darsi. Brookard Cleeve has a different opinion. "I know guys like him, and it sucks that my girl likes to hang out with them. You can't trust them."

Curious, he pulls out the Green files, finding profiles on Brookard during his time in the training center. Miraculously he's one of 10% in the training center to be not bisexual, and even more than that he's one of the .5% to be homophobic, at least according to his profile. It's why he wasn't selected to be a career, and the trainers do think that he would have died almost immediately after the bloodbath.

Brookard doesn't believe that. He believes that he's the best, truly.

Something clicks with Phillip. He keeps going through the interactions between Stark and Aubrianna, with Brookard's thoughts through it. "I'd rather she didn't spend too much time with him. She's already on the right track of mind, I don't need a guy like him to get him off…" All quotes about Aubrianna's friendship with Stark are from Brookard's perspective. He gets into a scuffle with Hellion for the dinner party commemorating her victory. Brookard's own pocket knife was turned against him and he has to leave with a punctured lung. Hellion gets a black eye.

Phillip ponders aloud as he looks at the interview. Stark and Aubrianna are having a cordial conversation about Brookard's behavior. He whips out his pocket computer and plays a video he has of the aftermath.

"Look I'm sorry about Brook. He just attacked me, but I didn't have to do that. I thought I'd be away from conflict."

"Brookard is like that," Aubrianna falsely reassures. "He just doesn't like me talking with...you guys… and yes he's one of them."

Stark's face grows to exhibit a look of fury as he gently prods the ice in his husband's face. "In District 1, there are people like that?"

"Everywhere. They never get selected for the careers. They're usually sent to the dying rooms. Like in District 2. No one likes them and we've been successful in stamping them out for the most part. But you're right. He's too controlling. We had this set up for too long!" She slams a glass on the table and gets a small gash on her finger. "He doesn't know what he's doing, fighting victors- ALL LGBT victors. This has happened far too much."

"WHy don't you leave?" Hellion inquires.

"It's arranged. My parents are stupid fucks and Brook is just that, if not moreso. I'm dumping him when we get out of the victory tour."

The last sentence. The video cuts off at the last sentence while Aubrianna turns much more resolute and shares a look of knowing with Stark and Hellion. There's a bit of blabber about Hellion still in fighting shape-deliciously sexy fighting shape and how the other capitol teenagers are grateful that his amazing abs and pecs aren't damaged by the fight...must be the greaser aesthetic.

Phillip closes the file and opens a new one, the crime files on the three bodies found outside Aubrianna's home. The most mangled body of a 5' 9" man with piercing platinum hair and stocky build finally determined to be Aubrianna's ex husband is now identified. The coroners say he died at the end of the victory tour but his body was concealed along with a woman and a man. Aubrianna only allows her three sisters and her brother into her house nowadays.

It clicks. The wounds on the most mangled are of a bludgeoning weapon. The wounds are numerous and plenty, and Aubrianna has been significantly happier nowadays. He writes down his thoughts on a napkin and just finishes as Berliner covers his eyes. "Guess who?"

"My girlfriend?" he replies in a mocking tone.

His prise is a kiss on the cheek as she dutifully carries her load. "You can't tell me how glad I am you're here, and that you presented the evidence that Brookard is dead. No one in the Capitol liked him, and no one in the Districts did either!" As usual, Berliner blabbers on her quick and high voice while phillip listens kindly.

A busboy with a rolling trashcontainer grabs the files on the table and sets them under the counter, knowing that Phillip will be there to pick it up. He grabs the napkin and tosses it in the trash. In a night of pleasure and passion, Phillip forgets that he left his revelation on the table.

But it isn't like anyone cares about Brookard Cleeve, right?

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **as per usual I apologize for the while without an update, but I'm prepping for SATS and other stuff. You know, school's kicking my ass as per usual. Aubrianna was among the first names I created, so her name doens't really scream District 1. Aubrianna's chapter was definitely one that changed plots through development. It was originally going to be magazine centric, but I liked this format. I also just needed to unleash my anger on something, and Brookard Cleeve deserves every fuckign piece of it.**

 **Next chapter, the new youngest victor is crowned**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	84. Meditara Lustre

_**Victor #84;**_

 _ **Name: Meditara Lustre**_

 _ **District: 04**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 12**_

 _ **Games: 083**_

 _ **Death: 148, Piper**_

For the second time in five minutes, the crowd has gone silent. "Sorry?" our escort, a man named Villardo Odralliv hesitates. "Did someone volunteer?"

I awkwardly shuffle out into the aisle, confident, but with my resolution almost leaving me. "I- I- I did," I say meekly, stepping to the stage.

"Well then, rules are rules, and only one volunteer per tribute per hunger games. Miss Soundra Lustre, you are free to go," he directs. Soundra stays on stays for about thirty seconds more in shock before the peacekeepers wrap around her and march her off. I slowly move to take her place and the only sound is my cousin feverishly objecting. I turn to look at her with a look of fear in my eyes but otherwise a still face.

The stage, five feet higher than the rest of the reaping square, is equally as silent. The boy who will become my district partner, is staring with widened eyes and a look of sickness on his face. "Please Dear, state your name," Villardo respectfully demands.

I walk up to the microphone just after a stage hand lowers it to my height. "Meditara Lustre," I say. My name echoes through the square much like it would on a rocky cliff on a windless day.

"Related?" Villardo prods. I nod my head, a bit exhausted, and he exchanges glances with the two mentors, Finnick Odair and Polyp Chelle, just behind me. "Cousin?" Again I nod. "How old are you dearie?"

"Twelve," I say. The tension in the square becomes harder and harder. I cast a look at the boy next to me. He's Sundell Dune, 15 years old, a strong academy kid, but reaped. He's probably envious of my cousin right now. "I didn't want to see my cousin go in with the possibility of losing her baby."

The crowd begins to talk again. They- we- I - my family dodged a bullet. The Rules of the hunger Games state that it is 1 tribute that comes out of the arena over 23 other tributes. It is not 1 tribute that comes out of the arena over 23 other tributes and a fetus. Villardo puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me and closes off the ceremony, thanking the crowd for their devoted time.

The peacekeepeers swamp both me and Sundell effortlessly and take the two of us into our rooms. I stumble in and trip over my nice shoes. I take them off and begin dusting them off as I hear footsteps from the hall. Just like me, my father darts in. Breathing heavily, he's about to open his mouth before I collapse in his chest, crying. "Medi…why?" he whispers. His breath hitches and I can feel him going shell shocked again. "No… I can't let them take you, can't let them take Medli, and I can't let them take you…"

A stronger, longer hand grips my father's shoulder and rubs my back. "Meditara...what happened?" my oldest sister, Dykon, asks. I shake my head simply because I don't know what went on. "Someone else could have done it! Why you?!" I flinch at her rising voice but she hugs me tightly. "No one your age has ever gone into the Hunger Games and gone out."

Fiji sits wit the rest of my family as she takes a deep breath. "Medi. I believe that you can do this, but it's just...It's going to be hard on all of us, you know? Try-no Do make it out. Please. Mom can't see her little doll out in the killing, so try to minimize that."

"No one's gone out without making any kills," I hopelessly say.

"And I don't expect you to either. Try to find allies with the careers and 7-9. Don't single yourself out," Dykon explains. "Please meditara, just do your best."

The knock at the door means that my family has to go. Dad opens his hand to reveal a magnolia flower. I love that tree and he's given it to me for comfort. I hug him one last time before he walks out the door in a cold silence. "Watch over him?" I ask Dykon. He's had anger issues in the past, none that he's taken out on us, but he could flare up old rebel tendencies.

They nod and hold each other as they walk out. I go to the sink to wash my eyes out and use the mirror to nestle the flower just above my ear. With a hard breath I sit back on the chair and wait for my next visitor. The door opens just as Soundra walsk in. She takes a seat on the couch, sweating and looking many times older. Soon to follow are Decklin and Bowsprit and Oxbow. Soundra isn't that old, only 17, but eligible, and she's about 4 months along. I try to focus as they try to reassure me but I know that hope is basically gone. "Medi," Soundra speaks up. "Thank you. If you die, I'll name her after you. If the baby is a boy, then I'll name him Medion. All to honor you."

The peacekeepers walk in and my friends all hastily cry their last wishes before I'm alone again. _I have no idea what I've gotten myself into_. I'm the 85th girl to enter this room. With any luck, I might be the sixth girl to make it out. I'll also probably be the next one to go crazy. Lilo, Polyp, and Annie are all crazy among the victoresses. Well, the craziest. The door opens again and this time I'm shocked to see two of the boys I hang out with. "Didn't think you'd actually do it!" Caballian jokes. I haven't known him for a while but he's nice. "Now, you can kick my butt, so you can obviously kick the older butts."

"Just be careful," Michol says. "You know 12 year olds don't have much of a chance. Stick to the careers, that might be the best option."

"Come on Mickey, she doesn't need the careers! She made more targets in 6 minutes than 75% of the 15 year olds, so she should really stand a chance! You can do it Medi, we'll root for you from here," he says loudly.

"T-t-thanks," I say, my voice catching. "I'll do my best."

"You're a career, be proud! I'll try to join you in victor's village when I'm old enough. I may be good, but I'm not that good you know?" Caballian jokes. "Anyways, you can kick ass in the arena. Mickey and I believe in you."

Just like that, they begin to leave. I give them all one last hug before they're gone. And when they leave the peacekeepers come to take me. I close my eyes as they muscle me to the train. We walk the distance to the train. The capitol wants us all to arrive at the capitol at the same time so they give us a very good living space for the 2 day trip.

When we walk in, I open my eyes and begin to rub at them. Already our escort is setting up a bunch of glasses, giving one to me and Sundell. "Go on, all my tributes like this little thing." Villardo collapses onto a massive arm chair and begins to cuddle with a pillow, instructing us to remain seated as our mentors for the year- Polyp (under her personalities, Volga and Victoria) and Finnick make their way on the train

"Hey," I tap Sundell on the shoulder and he jumps up. "Can...can I work with Finnick this year?"

"Isn't it the boys mentoring the boys and the girls mentoring the girls?" he sneers.

"Well, maybe you can work with Skipper," I offer.

"Only if he wants, and I doubt he does," he scoffs. Already I can tell he's somewhat of a jerk. I turn away from him and am determined not to let him see me cry. Polyp and Finnick walk in, waving off their bags and picking up some form of personal communicators. This year, Annie's also come along, and so has Francisco- Polyp's guest and only son of Lilo Suales. Annie and Francisco go into the kitchen, waiting as they eat bread. Sundell and I shoot up when the victors come in. Yeah, we know them from training, but they still carry an air of respect with them. When Sundell sits I finally do.

"So, let's get the elephant seal out of the way," Finnick speaks up. "Why did you volunteer?"

"Well," I stammer. "Soundra was pregnant by several months. And no one has been training seriously because of the hurricane. I thought that I could...do it? I don't know, it was an impulse and I was thinking...yeah thinking about doing that anyway."

"I've just been trained, no plans for volunteering. Just trying to help my brother and sister with their diabetes," Sundell says proudly. I'm beginning to like him less and less.

Finnick and Polyp (or Skipper or Volga or Victoria) look at each other and silently confer. "Meditara, I'll mentor you," Finnick says. "You're in over your heads and you need as much help as we can get you, and at most 25% of Polyp can charm old ladies. Sugar cube?" Sundell rolls his eyes and begins to talk with Polyp (or Skipper of Volga or Victoria) without taking one. I take one and pop it in my mouth as Finnick takes 3 in.

The reaping replays begin and Finnick turns on the television. District 1 is another year of double volunteers. The boy is about 5' 11" and about as muscular as they have been in the past years. The girl, who also looks muscled, is slightly shorter than he his, but attention from the announcers are directed at her flowing black hair, such a rare beauty in District 1, they say. District 2 brings 2 more children of the mines, the term almost everyone uses for the strong and tall volunteers. District 3's boy has a slight stutter that he hides with his tears and the girl tries to run away before being dragged feet first on stage. It's sad but the commentators and Villardo are laughing.

Then it's our turn. Villardo calls up Sundell, who looks pretty sick but is shaking his head at soem stronger boy. Then Soundra is called and there's hesitation from the commentators, who sigh in relief when I come on stage. The commentators laugh again at their reactions to the reaping, which they say were identical to what they did when our reaping was broadcast live. Finnick's communicator begins beeping wildly and he silences it. "The others are...kind of mad at you," he hastily whispers. He pops another sugar cube.

District 5 brings up 2 redheads. The male mentor for this year, rubs his temples as his husband looks on with a sympathetic glance. The girl faints on stage. The boy and girl from District 6 begin to shiver and faint just before the camera fades away. District 7 has a 16 year old girl named Colorada and a 16 year old boy named Hydrew. District 8 has a 15 year old boy named Mack and the third 12 year old this year. District 9 has the boy volunteer. He looks like he'd take my spot in the alliance. Then the girl is 15 but she stands as good a chance as the boy.

Districts 10, 11, and 12 all go by in a blur. More attention is on the mentors. The new girl from District 10 looks out in the crowd, pointing at clouds. The man from 10 still holds his wife's hand. District 11 is nothing new. The only living male mentor is the drunkard, Chaff, and old Seeder's still up there doting on him this year. Katniss and Peeta from District 12 have more of the camera focused on them than the barfing kids that just got reaped. It seems like a dud year.

The reaping replay ends to show coverage of all 12 trains going to the capitol with their loved ones. Finnick invites Annie over and they share a sugar cube. She kisses him on the temple. I leave the room and Sundell sulks off later. I try to open the door and the button isn't working for me. As I grow more frustrated a hand reaches over and gives the door a slight push. I look around awkwardly and see Annie, grinning widely and blinking. "Thanks Ms. Cresta," I say.

I turn into my room and rest on the bed, sitting with the alarm clock in my hand. The time right now is 9:15, capitol time. Annie jumps on the bed and hugs me tight. "You're like Finnick. You will survive," she says. She leaves the room. I lie on the bed without bothering to change out of my fancier clothes. I fall asleep, unsure of my future.

* * *

 **Hey GUYS, HOPPS HERE**

 **AFTER A LONG SLEEP I PUBLISH AGAIN! yeah, this took awhile, so I appreciate you guys for sticking out. Meditara is now the youngest victor in all of Panem, paving the way for 12 year olds (and there will be one more)**

 **So, elephant in the room: I've been prioritizing my work on Tremble, so if you want to see a closed SYOT, check it out. I just hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and are willing to wait out for longer**

 **Happy Holidays**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	85. Swift Systron

_**Victor #85;**_

 _ **Name: Swift Stryson**_

 _ **District: 09**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 13**_

 _ **Games: 084**_

 _ **Death: 160**_

He sits at the desk, rapping his fingertips against the hard oak of the desk. A thin layer of glass coats Headmistress Tymphus' desk. At 13 years old he's already with this responsibility on his back. He hates it. "Do you understand what this entails Swift?"

"Yes Headmistress," Swift replies. If he had known that signing up for that no volunteer list would have led to this responsibility then he wouldn't have done so in the first place. He stands up, tall for his age but still shorter than the headmistress.

"We are both victors, as unlikely as that may have been, we're on first name protocol. You have my permission to call me Jackie if you so desire," Jackie Tymphus says. "No victor thinks that they'd get out of the arena. Being the second youngest one out is a large responsibility."

"I regret it."

"We all do Swift. We all do," Jackie says. They have quiet small talk for the rest of 30 minutes, ruminating on his lucky survival. District 9's academy took a while, a long while to get started, and Swift being the first victor out says a lot about the current state of the academy. Swift leaves at the end of the appointment, going down to the rock climbing room. Before his hunger games he never tried much out of his comfort zone.

 _Well, he grew on the outskirts, near an old tributary, so he had a lot to learn. A mom who would snip at him to keep the house clean while lugging in haul after haul of fresh plants for a meal made him pay attention to the wilds around his house. His father, older brothers, and older sister, tilling day to day in the fields and coming home with pocket change- enough to buy one set of learning material for them all. He lived a hard life, but he grew cocky._

 _After Meditara's win the year before, he grew even cockier, signing up as one of 3 dozen who did not wish to have a volunteer. He knew there was no volunteer in his family, as the brother closet to him in age, had just turned 19, and he figured he stood a chance as well as the careers. When his name was plucked, he was surprised, but confident._

The walk to the rock climbing room mirrors the walk to the goodbye rooms all too well. He remembers his last words of confidence to his parents as he steps into the room of plaster lined molds and unique handholds. A snicker emerges from the right of him. A 12 year old, much more well fed than him, is with her clique, laughing at the scrub that's just shown up. "Hey, you lost little boy?" one of them sneers.

He sighs quietly, walking up to the trainer in charge of handing out the belays. The trainer spots his badge square in the middle of the left side of his shirt. "Would you like to go on the moderate?"

"I'll just go for the easy one. Haven't had need to do it, but I'm still trying to shake things off. Turn on the avalanche too."

"It will come at 25% of normal rate," the trainer explains. It's no District 1, 2, or 4, but they;re more successful than 7 or 8, so the technology reflects the state of the training center. District 9's victories led to funds being donated from willing capitol donors. It's better than the career system in District 8. Swift ties on the belay and puts his hands on the rock. A snicker from the cocky new recruits comes but when he turns around, they shut up. He looks up at the 20 foot wall and slowly pushes himself up.

Reaching the top he looks down at his wristwatch, noting that five minutes and twenty nine seconds have passed. It seemed so much longer gteting up but when the top was in sight, it seemed so much shorter. "TRAINER!" the snickering kids yell. "Let's show that dimwit how it's done. We'll be up there in 4 minutes, so if we don't rock him off, set the avalanche on."

The trainer glances up at the boy whose just barely a teenager. He nods his head in resignation and makes himself comfy at the inclined plane. The kids-even if they're a year younger- are looking with a teasing glint in their eye. He looks up at the ceiling. Time's always been diluted for him since that endless field. From the bloodbath of five minutes that's seemed like ten seconds of mayhem, the 17 days in the arena that seemed to pass by ten times as slowly, and every hour of that blasted day, waiting for 8 hours for that one pill to heal his infected thigh.

As he checks his wristwatch to see that 3 minutes and 23 seconds have passed since the kids set their challenge, his wrist is pulled abruptly. "GOT THE TRY HARD!" one of them shouts victoriously. It's the ringleader, the girl. She's the tallest of the bunch but probably not the strongest. He's seen her face only in the past week. She must be one of the rich kids. "GONNA THROW HIM DOWN SO YOU BITCHES BETTER CATCH UP!"

"Let. Me. Go," Swift demands, his breath hitching. She's about his height and her grip is like an iron fist.

"What's wrong? The little 10 year old not throwing a fight?" She nudges him closer to the edge. "What are you going to do?"

He moves his free hand to his back pocket. If she can't see the badge, then she'll see his identification as a head tutor and victor. "Let. Me. Go," he says, all the more frantic.

"No," the girl sneers. Her friends are coming up, and they're laughing at Swift holding himself back. It's all too similar to his alliance. The careers, they're just like the careers.

"What are you waiting for Brittani?" one of her friends, a boy with curly blond hair jeers.

"Do it!" a brunette girl chants. The three others are chanting, wanting to see the 'rookie' humiliated.

"Let. Me. go," he demands more soundly. The girl doesn't relent and she moves cloer. She puts his hand on the back of his shirt and he throws his momentum behind him, dropping the girl about 5 feet from the top. She's screaming and tries to run up but misses. She falls down, only saved by the hesitation on the belay. He looks behind, the clique looks all the more similar to the career alliance he found himself to be a part of.

The top of the wall is a small platform, only about five meters wide and 4 meters long. The boy, with an urging of "Come on Lucas!", marches up next, preparing to punch. He's well fed too, but he throws his punches clumsily enough for him to dodge. One of the few holds he learned in the training center locks the boy's arm as he writhes on the ground in pain.

With one free hand, he kneels on the back of the boy's neck, pulling out his identification. "How long have you guys been here?"

"A...A week," one of the girls says timidly.

"Really? I've been here just about 3 years. I went to the capitol for more or less a month, so that explains my absences," Swift says, angrily. They all shut up. "Do you know the staff?"

They all shake their heads. "Ok, quick talk. The victors- you know who they are-Maury, Pharlax, Montague, Quiltan, Jackie, and Swift, all work here. We all train at points."

"Umm...did you say we?" the other boy in the group asks.

"I did," Swift says quickly. "I think you met with Pharlax at the desk to enroll. Was she wearing a golden badge? Like this one?" His badge glistens in front of the rookies, and he can see the wariness in their eyes. "I'm young, so I'm recent. Do you know at least when I won?"

"Last … year…" the boy says.

Swift nods. "I didn't learn all that I needed to to survive, didn't spend enough time on combat, rock climbing, tree climbing, swimming, any of that. I think you guys should spend more time on training in the center than working your way and picking on people. You have no idea what we're capable of. Now, Trainer Massa and I will take..Brittani and Lucas was it? We'll take them to Headmistress Tymphus. I hope you get it right now." He adds that last sentence in almost a low growl, staring intently at the kids. "If you wish to apologize, meet us outside the office."

The kids take the ladder at the back of the rock wall down the stairs, scampering quickly. He grabs Lucas' hands and marches him down the ladder. The trainer, who has been tending to Brittani, with a sprained ankle, notices Swift walking out. Trainer Massa gets the hint and begins to walk with Brittani as she limps along. Trainer Massa, Swift, and the other kids sign a witness statement that explains what they saw before they're dismissed.

It seems like it takes 3 hours when it only takes a third of that. The kids are just that, bored kids as they wait for the fate of their friends. Dinner time in the communal cafeteria is close, so after Lucas and Brittani get out Swift is sure that he'll see them later. He looks at the kids again, seeing the fear in their eyes. It's an odd parallel.

 _The career alliance was distrct 1, 2, 4, the girl from District 7 and Swift. District 8 were the rogue careers. After the death of the girl from District 7, Swift's closet ally, the girl from District 1, was forced off a cliff, where she became the 15th cannon. It was day 9. They cornered him, the youngest one next. The 15 year old District 4 boy, the second in a row, marches up to him, confident that he'll lose the scuffle. The four boy is wrong, and in a heap of manic strength, Swift stabs a blowdart into his eye. The boy dies in agony and Swift bolts into the forest, almost unaware of the stab to his stomach._

He saw himself as the 1 boy who pushed his own partner off the cliff when he pushed Brittani off. Then he saw the boy from District 4 as he shoved Lucas onto the fake rock. Even as he talked to the others, they slowly morphed into the other tributes...it wasn't something worthwhile. Lucas and Brittani finally come out of the office, having been slapped with a 3 day suspension of the training facility.

"Mister Systron," Lucas speaks up. "I just want to apologize." Brittani nods her head along as Lucas talks of his anger management issues and Brittani's cattiness. "If you can find it in your heart to forgive us then we'd like to train under you."

"Get your names off the no volunteer list, it was the biggest mistake I ever made," Swift warns. "Get your heads on straight and then we'll talk."

Lucas, Brittani, and their clique all nod their heads. When they're out of sight, Swift bolts into this office, lined with stuffed animals along the walls. He grabs a stuffed cat, a fluffy one, and cries. He's growing up too fast, too soon to be in a position of authority. He just wants to live in the outskirts of the woods again, Meditara understands, but she's too far away. He just wants to be a kid again.

Jackie hears him through their adjacent walls. She emphasizes, and cries with her door locked.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **So yeah, school struck up again, but I'm slowly getting in the groove. Maybe I'll get another chapter of ACAH out sometime soon, maybe not. I'm going to be shuffling priority with this and Tremble, as was implied. Swift is the first 13 year old victor, a cocky archetype that I kind of had fun playing around with. I'm sure he comes off as a Marty Stu, but I hope he's redeemable. The true judge, of course, will be you guys, so let me know**

 **So, I'll add questions here every chapter from now on to add some spice to the reviews, because I want to get to know you guys out of sporadic reviews. Thank you all so much by the way**

 **Who is your favorite victor from Districts 7, 8, or 9 so far?**

 **What was your favorite present this year?**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	86. Whelsis Archus

_**Victor #86;**_

 _ **Name: Whelsis Archus**_

 _ **District: 01**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 085**_

 _ **Death: 158, Vibrance**_

"How is he?" Dash asked urgently. His first victor still was under the ICU, three days after his finale. "Hellion and Aubry said that he's coming to soon enough so I can't be sure that-"

"Calm down Mr. Candela," the doctor says dismissively. "If you're really that worked up, maybe I can loosen something for you." She drops her clipboard on the table and leans close, brandishing her chest. "I'll tell you this. I've paid the price, and Whelsis will be up in...say about an hour, which is enough for our time together."

The victor swallows tensely as he takes the doctor's hand in on e of his and guides his other hand to her ass. They walk out the waiting room, Dash unconfident and the doctor openly lustful. As they depart for the entrance Dash catches Mallius' eye. Mallius nods, he knows what his ex wants, and waves him off as they go to the doctor's private quarters. "What was that?" Niccety asks.

She's not a desirable victor, so she misses out on the cues of the prostitution ring. Mallius is going to tell her soon enough, she's 22 so she has to learn sometime. They turn into the ICU, finding Hellion reading a book on metal working at Whelsis' bed. "Are you here to relieve me of my duty? Figures. I'll be in the gym. STark's going to make me tear him a new one if I skip out on my work outs," he scoffs. He waves the three victors goodbye and takes the elevator down to his quarters.

The television is on to a little news report on uproar in district 5 directed to District 6 due to the actions of Venoa Shant to Solaron Dithers. "Terrible way for Solaron to die, and he was so hopeful,"Niccety remarks. Only the victors have seen the true actions of Venoa.

"Duly noted," Mallius notes, looking at Whelsis. Mallius and Niccety's conversation is short and sweet before Whelsis abruptly wakes up, looking around lost and confused.

"Whoa…" he says disillusioned. "Who are you?"

"Victors," Niccety says. "Niccety Burnage, District 8 and Mallius Frollel of District 2."

Whelsis blinks, unsure of what's going on. "What happened? I won? Where's Centinus?"

The two older victors share a glance with each other before turning to Whelsis again. "Son," Mallius says in a fatherly tone. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Whelsis thinks with his brow furrowing in thought. He opens his mouth but no words come out. "Venoa...she did something to that District 5 boy that made...that made Daintelle flip out. We saw his corpse and subdued the girl. It smelled too much like shit and.."

He catches his breath as Niccety holds his hand. "Sweetie-"

"I'm 18 years old!" he shouts.

"Whelsis, that was the bloodbath," Niccety continues. "Are you sure you don't remember anything else?" He shakes his head worriedly and clutches his temples. "Tell us all that you remember."

The blond boy tilts his head back and runs his hands through his shock of hair. With a shiver he begins to explain what he remembers.

"The careers were me and Daintelle from District 1, Centinus and Nyxta from 2, and we had District 4-Missi and Bruce. Two of the semi careers were Hydox from District 8 and Veronica from District 9. They allied with each other. I thought that Venoa and Solaron were also allies. I know all of their names, but why did they die? What happened to them?"

"Do you think that we should show him the video?" Mallius whispers.

"Let him talk," Niccety speaks up. "Keep going Whelsis."

Whelsis continues, sounding a bit more like the confident man from District 1 who volunteered for a fellow 18 year old for the Hunger Games. "District 7 was Yllon and Juniper. District 6 was Venoa and Jupiter. District 5 had Solaron and Nina. District 10 was Sandra and Lorden. District 11 was Thyme and-Sandra? I remember two girls had the same name which was weird. District 12 were Moises and Fern. District 3...that was Java and Gable. District 8's girl was Stacy and district 9's boy was...Stacey?"

It was a weirdly named year to say the least. Most of the pregame buzz was the talk about tributes from different genders and districts sharing names over the years past, with several sharing the names of a victor that didn't last long past the bloodbath. "That's all I remember. I killed a girl in the bloodbath, I can't remember who it was then we all went to take care of Venoa."

Mallius sighs and ponders at the revelation. At this point, Whelsis thinks he's only made 2 kills in the games, plus however many the frivolous trainers at the academy let him. "Do you remember anything on Centinus?" Mallius asks.

"You were his mentor, right?" Mallius nods and Whelsis smiles. "I don't remember who killed him but I'm just so sorry. I think he fell in love with me but I couldn't reciprocate it, due to the circumstance. I didn't want to kill him if I did but-"

"Calm down son,"Mallius says with an uneasy but reassuring laugh. "He turned on you first. I take it you don't remember it?" Whelsis shakes his head hesitantly. "You District 1 boys are so soft."

"Didn't stop you from being my first adult boyfriend," Dash lightly laughs. "Hard muscles, hard heads, but soft hearts seems to be the way of District 1 right now," Dash explains. He's accompanied by the doctor who slumps against him almost drunkenly. "Whelsis, you're up. Mallius, Niccety, thanks for taking care of him."

"Don't worry," Niccety chides. Mallius smiles and leaves with a wave to Dash. Dash smiles before facing his victor, tears in his eyes already. "Shocker, is it?"

Dash can only nod as he breaks down at Whelsis' bed. "I can't believe it...you're alive...so many boys and you're the first…" he babbles. "You're alive and healthier."

Mallius smiles fondly before gesturing for him and Niccety to leave. Slowly they close the door to the infirmary and traipse down the hallway, relieved at their conversation with the victor. "He doesn't remember," Mallius muses as the smile fades. The elevator comes up almost silently enough to scare the two of them. Niccety steps in first, holding the door for the older man as she presses the button for the victor's lounge. "It's strange isn't it?"

"What is?" Niccety asks.

"He killed everyone else in the career alliance, the District 6 girl, the miscreant from District 7, the girl from District 3, the girl from District 12, and then the boy from 8. How does he not remember?" Mallius asks in frustration, gripping at his temples. "2 in the bloodbath, sniped four of the five careers, three more outliers, and then faces Centinus? How doesn't he remember?"

She can only watch as he breaks down, wondering how it was possible like the several years before. "Was Centinus in love with him?"

"I saw the signs I only assumed," Mallius dithers. "Didn't think that Whelsis felt somethign else, Dash was tightlipped on that matter. Can't believe it…"

The elevator opens to the half-occupied Victor's lounge. Niccety walks up to Peeta Mellark as he mixes paint together for the giant mural. They dont' quite have a knack for determing animals but they seem to be fitting into the grand scheme of the victor's zoo efficiently. Mallius sits at the nook in front of his favorite television, which has been programmed to replay the uncensored footage.

The footage will still skip over Venoa's mistreatment of Solaron. Whelsis in the hunger Games is a standard career, killing the girl from District 12 in the bloodbath period and scavenging through supplies when Daintelle screams. The careers run to her, finding her pale faced as she looks at Solaron's mangled corpse. Venoa, naked and manic, screeches from her hiding spot and charges at Daintelle, maiming her slightly. She's still weak and restrained by Centinus and Bruce as Whelsis deals the blow.

His first victim in the career alliance comes during a night's patrol with Missi. She's onto his wariness at the third day, calling him a slacker even after he was responsible for 2 of the 10 deaths that have occurred. When she isn't looking he throws a rock somewhere left bound of her. She investigates the noise, opening her back to Whelsis. Missi dies as the 11th person dead.

He's about to watch a failed assault on the career camp that has Centinus dispatching the boy from District 10 when he hears a glass break and shouting coming from the bar. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Hellion shouts. Mallius and three other victors run up to separate him from the helpless man from District 6. "THAT'S WHAT THEY TEACH IN DISTRICT 6?"

Levora tries to slip away but he's easily winded when Hellion grips him by the shirt. "ASSHOLE!" Hellion shouts, driving his fist into Levora's stomach. He drops to the floor and Hellion tries to pick him up before Mallius locks his arm behind his head. He breaks free but Levora has already run to his corner, crying into his paints.

"HELLION!" Nox shouts. "Just calm down. You need to breathe-"

"HE NEEDS TO FUCKING EXPLAIN HIMSELF! IN DISTRICT 6 DO THEY TEACH THEIR KIDS TO GET NICE WITH SOMEONE ONLY TO BACKSTAB THEM? TORTURE THEM?! FUCKING **SHIT** ON THEM?!" He's foaming at the mouth and it takes Nox, Jake, and Mallius to hold him back as Katniss, Peeta, and Fione form a barrier around Levora. Irumn, among the oldest of them, steps up to Hellion and holds his head as he cries tears of anger.

"What Venoa does was on her own accord," she calmly explains. She's trembling but holding surprisingly strong for a 78 year old woman.

"When Solaron asked me to ally with Venoa, I should have said no," he replies seething with rage.

"Venoa was insane but we didnt know what extent. Venoa grew up neglected and latched on to Solaron, who was the first one to treat her nicely. What happened was her jealousy from Solaron trying to get back to his girlfriend," Irumn explains.

"That doesn't require her to FUCKING **SHIT ON HIM** after three minutes of torture, does it?!"

"No, no it doesn't. The Capitol hated that too," Irumn says. "And Venoa is dead. Let it be."

Hellion slams his fist on the counter, breaking a glass under him. He stomps off to the infirmary, pissed. Nox and Jake follow, trying to keep him steady. Awkwardly, Mallius returns to his television. Centinus also kills the girl from district 5. In the chaos he finds Whelsis casually slitting Bruce's throat, which kills him when he falls to the ground. District 4 is out of the running all too soon.

The Hunger Games is now in day 6 out of 13. Two days have gone by without deaths. Centinus has voiced his love to Whelsis but understands that he's going to have to die, and he'd rather have it at Whelsis' hands before anyone else's. "How the hell doesn't he remember that?" Mallius grumbles. The District 7 girl makes an attack with the District 9 boy. In the chaos, Whelsis kills his own partner and the District 7 girl. Then Centinus kills District 9 but reflexively stabs his own partner when she walks behind him. Whelsis kills her for him, placing a hand on Centinus' shoulder. District 8 is the last opponent for the both of then, the Whelsis kills the girl and Centinus takes out the boy.

Centinus and Whelsis, with tears in their eyes, engage in a battle after sharing a kiss. It's...tragic. Centinus goes down five minutes into their battle and has a last conversation with Whelsis before he places his knife in Whelsis' hands. Hesitating, Whelsis looks in Centinus' tired eyes as they plunge the blade into his heart. The cannon and trumpets sound to signify Whelsis' victory.

Dash walks into the victor's lounge just as Mallius' video finishes. "Hey Dash," Mallius speaks up. "Let's talk, it's been a while since we've sat down hasn't it?"

"Yeah it has, how's Fortuna?"

"You know, we aren't looking to get married yet, but maybe I'll pop the question for the sake of our kid."

"I knew you had it in you to raise a kid," Dash chuckles, pointing out a set of bar food from the menu. "I think that I'm going steady with my own girl. I'll ask the question soon. She's just great."

"It's nice catching up isn't it?" Mallius says.

"It is," Dash says with a smile.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed this kind of disjointed chapter. Whelsis isn't really remembering things for a while, but he'll be sure to find out. I thought I'd deal with the reactions to the hunger games again, revisiting some characters, I'll be frank in saying that District 1 is the hardest of the careers to write- and that includes 7,8, and 9.**

 **So, thoughts on Whelsis? Thoughts on the interactions? I'd like to know**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	87. Flora Mathias

_**Victor #87;**_

 _ **Name: Flora Mathias**_

 _ **District: 07**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 086**_

 _ **Death: 155, Paxton**_

For a morning like today I find myself in the backyard around the low lying wall of my house. Yesterday was the equinox, something my mother liked to point out. I can only look forward to the spring flowers and a forest that'll be all the more populated. Not really looking forward to the reaping when the Solstice comes afterward.

I roll out my mat on the hard brick and light a blend of lavender and sage in a bottle. The incense flows over my body as I stretch out my still aching frame. Slowly bending forward into a downward facing dog, I can only let out a sigh as my back arches upward. From that position I slowly press my chest down and lift my head up, arcing in something of a 120 degree angle.

With utmost care I carry my back behind me and stretch my chest to enter the camel pose before falling into a bridge. As the sun begins to rise higher I almost forget that Victor's Village of District 7 is due to have a capitol crew visit for b-roll footage this week. I conclude my morning yoga session with a five minute lotus pose in meditation. The doorbell ringing comes just as I finish my cup of water.

I'll return to my porch sometime soon. Out of the corner of my eye a rabbit tries to break into my garden yet I pay it no mind. With a deep breath I open the front door. "Hello Flora," my dad says formally. He greets me with a smile at his cheeks but a trace of hesitation in his eyes. "I see you're still going through your phase."

"It just makes me feel comfortable," I say nonchalantly. "Would you like to come in?"

"I worry about you Flora," he says warily.

"Really?" I say a bit too calmly. "You know that worrying is a bit too late." My Dad winces. Until enrolling at the Career Academy I have not caught a whiff of him from either of my mothers. I suppose it was a great coincidence that he turned out to be the instructor for orientation.

"Flora, I had no idea you existed until I saw your mother's face on you." He tries to justify himself further as I set some coffee. I offer him a cup and he sadly nods.

"This isn't for money, is it?" I ask tiredly.

"If you think it's so then you can either give it to me or kick me out. Just know that seeing you in the arena has made me think about making amends. If that means having a conversation with my 19 year old daughter too many years too late then be aware of that. I talked to Johanna and it appears that we shall be working together, believe it or not."

I hesitate as I close the cupboard. The coffee finishes and I set out some sugar cubes and sweetener for my father as he grabs at his smoking cup. "I just can't bring it to me to say 'Dad' to you just yet. I know that you are my dad, the bloodtests proved it, and I'm trying to get into that mentality too, but it just seems too soon. If we're coworkers, I want to try to get close to each other as that first."

He holds out his hand over the counter with a look of determination. "Then you can call me Ripley Branchtreaux. I'll respect your wishes." I take his hand in mine and shake it. After I let go he decides to help me out around the house, offering to fix a low brick and mortar wall while I cook breakfast.

At the sound of three pairs of footsteps I turn hesistantly before seeing both of my mothers and Humboldt walk out. Ma hesitates as she sees my father sitting at the counter, who walks up to her with a steady gait. "Hello Ellen," he says calmly.

"Ripley," she says cold. "I didn't think you'd walk all the way over here."

"I hitched a ride on a logging truck that rides here," he says. Humboldt, never one to talk, slides close to me and kisses me on the neck. He's got on a pair of boxerrs but other than that, he's as stark naked as I am.I cast a smile over my shoulder as my mothers both talk to Dad.

"Don't get me wrong here," momma Sakura says. "I believe that you have good intentions. But just know that Flora really prefers her privacy." Momma crosses her arms and I'm again reminded of just how intimidating she is, especially when she has about eight inches on my Dad.

"I understand," Dad says sadly. "Flora, I guess I will see you at the academy tomorrow."

"Wait," Humboldt speaks up. He always has that uncanny knack for directing all eyes to him. "At the very least stay with us for one plate of breakfast."

Dad smiles and thanks Humboldt kindly, shaking his hand before they both sit at the table. Momma Sakura and Mom lock eyes before sitting down at the opposite end of the table. Breakfast this morning is the usual, a baker's dozen of eggs, three dozen half-strips of bacon, waffles for me, an omlette for Humboldt, a plate of french toast each for Momma Sakura and Mom, and my dad settles to indulge himself in the fruit display.

I remain silent, holding hands with Humboldt as Momma Sakura, Mom, and Dad talk to each other. I look at Humboldt, remembering it's his first time meeting my father. "My mom-Ellen-teenage mother," begin to explain through bites of my waffles. "Dad-Ripley, and her were a thing for the time he was here. He lives in the Alaska Province-Where Johanna is from-so he comes down here for a month at a time for the reaping and to renew a liscense. Mom was 17 when she had me, but she couldn't find Ripley after I was born. It was just me and her until she and Momma Sakura began talking outside of their work."

He nods and continues to eat his omelette after squeezing my hand tenderly. Dad finishes his grapefruit and finishes his boiled egg and waves us all off. Mom puts her head in her hand and sighs. "You alright mom?" I ask her cautiously.

"I'm fine Flora," she says. "It's just tiring, but Sakura and I still have to work. Humboldt, don't you need to too?" My boyfriend nods and scarfs down the rest of his omelette. We all leave the table. I uncover a platter of bacon, toast, and eggs for my-technically step siblings- when they wake up. The clock at the top of the stove says it's now 8:00. School for District 7 will begin at 10:00 today. The schedule has always been weird.

Humboldt walks to our bedroom, knocking on the girls' door to wake the two of them up. I'm not required to go out into the main lumber yards but at this time of the year the land around Victor's park should have very tall trees. I still wait for everyone else to leave the house before I plan on putting clothes on.

It's usual fare for the lumberjacks of District 7, flannel, suspenders, and jeans under a helmet. I spend more time looking over the box my axe is in before finally opening it and pulilng it out. The shaft is a little longer than two feet and the blade takes up about four inches. It still feels like home.

The walk to victor's park isn't short enough from victor's village through the little market area. I take a deep breath and focus on the park, walking over there quietly and setting up a station close to the entrance. "Good Morning Flora," the old parkkeeper says kindly. I wave to him as I jog up, leaving my axe in the tree. "Every year you come here, it really helps an old man out."

"How are you today?"

"A bit sobered up if you ask me," he says sadly. "Visited the graves again. That wildfire in around Washton didn't help matters."

"Lose family over there?" I ask in as sad of a tone.

"Unfortunately. Lost Juniper and Daisy and Whest. Kiar isn't taking it well either so he moved here with me and the missus. Have to take care of seven little grandchildren too." I feel a pang of sympathy and pull out my wallet before he stops me. "No, No! It'll be alright. Our two oldest are working on making axeheads at the blacksmiths and they're two of the best workers, so-don't worry about it."

I cast him a smile and return to work. The axe still feels a bit unnatural three years after. I climb into the highest parts of the trees and begin to chop at the extended branches, letting it fall to the floor. When they break on impact I wince every time. I finish the twenty trees lining half of the perimeter when I decide to stop for lunch. I know a man is trying to set up a restaurant around here with soup in bread that tastes extraordinary. I decide to find him.

His family sets up a small stall inside victor's park in the colder months. I recognize the woman at the store as his wife, Deerena Acs, who also record keeps in the career academy. I order the stew in the bowl and she gives it to me warmly. With ample enough tip I leave the makeshift stall to rest under my workstation. The soup this time around is a hearty blend of beef, pork, carrots, rutabega, and some corn. Corn has always been my favorite vegetable, but even now I cannot think too much of it.

The poisoned corn in the rose garden that killed three people- the trail of blood that came from it being cut open-

It almost led to my death. I bite on one of the kernels of corn like I did in that hedge maze behind that three story science center. _The branch cracks behind me. I scream with my axe drawn, driving it into the side of Coron's stomach and he vomits up blood. The District 4 boy's cannon fires. He made it into the top eight, his goal, only to die in seventh._

Now I look behind me and still find my back against a tree in victor's park. I drop the soup just as a piece of bone hits my leg. I pick it up, another flashback triggered.

 _The bloodbath isn't a small one this year. 12 others dead in a joint second highest. I made the last kill. The District 6 girl was running away. I chased her down and swung both hatchets towards her. It takes off a little sliver of her finger that gets flung in my direction… I pick it up only to throw it away. I run back to the alliance, the boy from District 2, the girl from District 1, and the girl from District 8._

I'm still in the park when the flashback ends, under Sullivan's statue. I chuckle to myself while a green butterfly lands on my skin…

...crap…

 _Three days from the bloodbath is the collapse of the careers. We haven't been effective at hunting at all. The girl from District 1, Jewel, pounces on the District 2 boy in anger. She's stronger than she looks and the boy struggles. They kill each other, the 2 boy at 11th and 1 girl at 10th. The 8 girl strides up to me, but I drive the axe in her temple while a green butterfly goes between the two of us._

I run, trying to avoid the onslaught of flashbacks. The house isn't too far away. I dash past the gates, slam the door open, and bolt into my bedroom. In a haze of madness I tear my clothes off of me and bolt into the piping hot water in the shower and scream. The clock in the shower says it's only 3:00 in the afternoon. It'll take one more hour before my sisters will return and it will take another 2 before Humboldt, Mom, and Momma Sakura return.

I'm vaguely aware of the door slamming shut. I cautiously get up from the shower still dripping wet. "Flora?" Ripley calls out.

"I'm right here Ripley...just give me a moment."

"Got it," he says. I dry my hair and walk through the hallway to see him waiting at the door. "You look terrible, are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine Ripley… just don't worry about it."

"I'll be back tomorrow. Just to check in you. I hope it isn't too late for me to be a father."

"Not necessarily, but I need to let it sink it? Alright?"

"Yes."

* * *

 **Hey guys, hopps here**

 **this was supposed to go out several days ago but doc manager was a butt. So here we are with Flora, revisiting and expanding on an old chapter format, so I wonder if anyone recognizes whose format it was.**

 **Not much to say here, so I hope that you all are doing well, all are muddling through school at a great pace.**

 **Me? the beauracracy sucks, I'll probably write something lampooning it later but I can't be sure**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	88. Merit Vindal

_**Victor #88;**_

 _ **Name: Merit Vindal**_

 _ **District: 02**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 087**_

 _ **Death: 155, Paxton**_

 _One Day before Victory_

"We're going to have to do this sometime soon," I say as I look at Gungnir. He nods solemnly and exchanges a glance with the District 7 boy, Leon. We're all that's left of the alliance after 10 days. "Do you just want to do it now?"

Leon nods his head softly, holding his axe to his chest before dropping it to his side. He looks nervously at Gungnir and tries to smile. "Wanna settle this rivalry once and for all?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Gungnir says. "Merit, remember what we told you-"

"Kill the victor of this battle if they can't walk without limping or are barely holding their intestines in," Leon interrupts.

"One last interruption?"

"Pity not to," Leon snarks, imitating Gungnir's proper voice.

"Let's fucking get to it then," Gungnir bites back, imitating Leon's vulgar voice.

I close my eyes when I hear them both unleash a battle cry. Two strong volunteers, two strong 18 year olds, one entertaining battle for the prestigious placing at 5th. I open my eyes to see Leon throwing a small knife from his tool belt that lands in my partner's knee. He winces before pushing further with his halberd. With Gungnir's non dominant hand I can see him wrestle out a butterfly knife from Leon's toolbelt that he drives into his shoulder with a loud cry. I close my eyes again.

The battle ends after five minutes and Gungnir drops his halberd, bloodied and bleeding out of his neck. Leon isn't in much better of a state with a noticeable head wound, his hand just about chopped off, and a nasty slash along his stomach. They both fall to the ground, two cannons firing one after the other. I don't know who-died first but now I'm in the final three.

I can still hear my mother telling me how disappointing that was.

 _Thirty Seconds before Victory_

Fenway from District 11 lies on the ground with three knives in her stomach and her cannon fires. I barely have time to turn around to swing my sword into Roland of District 9 when I get a knife in my shoulder. With a scream of pain I push the sword deeper into my opponent, hearing his last scream get cut off as I drive the sword halfway through his body. He falls to the ground.

I see his body twitch in the last relapses of life before I pinch my finger to my nose just to block out the stench. He's not dead yet…but he soon will be. I stagger to grab at my shoulder in an effort to stop the bleeding. I squint my left eye to keep it shut but luckily the cannon fires and then the trumpets play. "MERIT VINDAL OF DISTRICT 2! CONGRATULATIONS ON WINNING THE 87TH HUNGER GAMES!"

The ladder drops with a platform for me to sit on. I'm drawn into the hovercraft and placed on a medical table and the drugs knock me out.

 _Interview Night_

The interview went well. Focus on my being reaped and a bold head shake at the volunteer who was ready to storm the stage clearly superseded all aspects of my personality. Atop the stage I sat on a seat of platinum and silver left to the great Rhodias Cepheus. Like his mentor he changed his hair this year-but he wore it in a mohawk instead of the smooth crew cut. The video played to standing ovation like usual.

Aging President Snow still was the one who placed the ruby crown on my head. Even as I stood on stage with a moniker of the 'Reaped Reaper' I could still hear mom and I could still see that I wasn't good enough.

 _Five days home after District 2_

"You realize that your plan, as stated to me by you when you first enrolled into the peacekeeping academy was to volunteer for an unprepared citizen and bring home the glory or die trying," Mom says as she looks over her paperwork. "And you have not fulfilled your plan."

"What does that matter? I was eight when I told you what happened."

"You, your father, and I have all agreed on that plan, because we decided to treat you as an adult within the established boundaries of our family. I knew it was going to be a wasted endeavor," she says, snapping her folder shut.

My brother, Honor, throws a glass onto the floor and begins to shout. "LISTEN HERE YOU UNGRATEFUL WENCH! WHAT DOES IT MEAN IF HER COMING HOME WITH A SCORE OF 9 AND NINE KILLS ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH FOR A TWIT LIKE YOU?!"

"I am not going to raise the volume of my voice. See Merit, I told you not to let your brother into this conversation of such a tense-"

"MOM SHUT UP!" my sister, Chastity says before clamping a hand over her mouth. She curls up to her arranged suitor and reels back.

With a huff, Mom gathers her belongings and talks to an avox assigned to me. She goes through the six paned door with an air of haughtiness behind her as always. The avox comes to me and points to the door, miming my parents' steps. "They're moving out," I connect. The Avox, a dark skinned man, nods his head. With a shaky sigh I fall back in the chair and take a look at Holonius Vert,my designated suitor.

"The wedding is off I presume," Holon says. I nod my head and he sighs sadly. "I just wish that I'd be able to save that mine. There are three thousand workers there but I don't think that cobalt is all that needed. And now it's going to the wingnut of my brother."

One by one the pieces all fall into place.

 _One week after arrival in District 2_

The peacekeepers almost storm into the Vert mines but keep a rational mind with them as a captain, Julia Lackley, takes a left into the offices. I follow her to see mine and Holon's parents in a deep conversation. "Miss Vindal," Captain Lackley says with hesitation. She looks at the window I'm gazing through and sees what I see. Two peacekeepers, dwarfing me and Holon, walk into the office with their guns drawn. "Please tuck away those papers. The four of you are under arrest for establishing arranged marriages in an effort to keep the wealth solely within your families. The mines you possess will now be delegated to your next of kin."

In shock my mother looks up but the small grin always on her face returns. "Merit, I knew you'd return," she says with her stupid little smile. "Did you know this would happen? And now you're busting us out, isn't that right?"

"No," I say bluntly. "The peacekeepers said it better than I ever could. You guys have been practicing an illegal method for far too long."

She rolls her eyes and calmly looks to my father, ever the silent man. "Very well, if you wish to talk to me I suppose that you know where I'm going. I do expect you to bail the two of us out promptly." They are whisked out in cuffs and I collapse on the chairs lining the office.

I take a look at Holon as he smiles lightly. "It's over…" he says tiredly. "It's done." Seeing my old friend smile as he wanders about the small office space makes me smile in turn. "I hear this is still a problem in the further parts of the District."

"We can't win all the battles but this one will make an example." Holon agrees with my statement and leaves the small office to me and me alone. I close the window out to the quarry and flip a photograph of my 'happy' family downward.

 _2 weeks after victory_

Both of my parents are sentenced to five years in prison. Holon's parents and a plethora of other couples who partook in this practice are sentenced to the same punishment. The trial is uncomfortably broadcast to the Capitol. Late at night I watch the Capitol comedy shows lambasting the looks of some of the children in District 2's families sentenced to ths horrendous crime.

"Looking at the lot of them I'm sure that our latest victor basically deprived them of the one chance for love," seems to be the common crime for it all. With a sigh I change the channel to the Capitol History Network. The guy on stage, an attractive blond man from one of the districts, is talking about the startling presence of mines in Districts that traditionally had nothing to do with mines. I remain tuned, watching the man hold the stage in front of a live audience and rarely stumbling.

His entire lecture is available for purchase if I call a number. I stay tuned because up next is a report on the land features of the District mountains. I stay tuned, he really is a charming man.

 _Victory tour_

IN the next six months the fervor surrounding my case against arranged marriages mostly dissolves and I'm remebered as a badass District 2 victoress extraordinaire like all District 2 females before me. My stats, 5' 8" at a healthy weight and 8 total kills are displayed time and time aain on many different networks and magazines with my score of 9 almost becoming a distant memory.

Enobaria tells me that I'm going to have to be careful around Districts 12, 11, 5, and 3. I've killed the two from 12, the girl from 11, the girl from 5, and the girl from three. In spite of me having killed the boy from District 9 I'm told not to worry since the families from 9 are often not angry at fellow careers. The girl from District 10 shouldn't give me much trouble and neither should the girl from District 6. She forgets that I also killed the girls from District 1 and 7 but I trust that it would be a non-issue, mostly

 _Alex, Cinderella, Hayeley, Barna, Roland, Raven, Ravie, Emphira, and Faberge._ Victors have forgotten the names of those they killed, Brutus, Gloss, Meditara, Flora, and Enobaria just to name a few.

The train rolls into District 12 and I'm herded onto stage almost hastily. They do not have many facilities for the victory tour so we'll only stay there for Dinner. I stand on stage as the square slowly fills with people and am greeted with warm applause from the mayor. "Thank you, District 12," I say in a respectful tone. "What District 12 brought to the Hunger Games this year were two strong citizens. From what I understand they stood on stage with great pride and have been in the District as productive citizens. I do lament their loss yet respect them as worthy adversaries. Thank you once again District 12 for your hospitality."

I get a poilite smattering of applause but it's more than likely forced. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, who have been mentoring nonstop ever since the quarter quell, stand on stage with their family. The one to give me the flowers this time around is one of Katniss' sons and a woman holding her in her arms. She can't be more than three years old. I take the flowers from the small girl and the woman puts her hand on my shoulder to guide me off stage. "My sister is feeling conflicted about you but that's much better than the emotions she feels to your other kin," she explains. "My name is Prim."

I shake my hands with her as she eagerly takes it. Enobaria and my escort, K, call me to join them. I invite Prim to join me as I meet up with my escorting crew as dinner is lavishly described from the two of them. "Settle down, K," Enobaria chuckles. "District 12's dinner isn't much but I'd say it's something to twelve into."

"Not one of your best Enobaria," Prim says with a stifled laugh. "But I get it. Anyway I can talk to your victor this time in District 12?"

"Of course, of course. Hopefully you'll find some Merit in talking to my victor."

Prim falling on the floor is an all too common reaction to Enobaria's puns.

 _Victory Tour_

The rest of the tour goes by in the blur. I shake hands with many of the victors I failed to meet after the Hunger Games. Donnabella is a cordial woman yet I can almost taste the ice that seems to lace her speech. Fione is as every bit as timid as the tributes she tends to mentor. Swift holds himself well and I instantly am enamored as he shows me his collection of stuffed animals while we talk formalities. "Roland was one of the kids who looked up to me," Swift says sadly.

"I'm sorry but he held up a great fight," is all I can muster when i cntemplate it.

"Look, he knew what he was getting into when he signed on as a volunteer, but to be so close and to lose it. I'm sure that there's more security in District 2 when it comes to matters of that regard. You're...16 right?"

"YEah," I tell him. "I'll turn seventeen at the end of the tour."

"Huh," he says with a small laugh. "I'll turn seventeen two days before you. Didn't think I was older in any way."

He holds out his shoulder and escorts me from his private office to the grand gymnasium. He says its how he learned to treat a girl under the tutelage of Headmistress Tymphus but he really hopes we can be friends. The urge to kiss his attractive face is indescribable.

I avoid dirtying my hand excessively from that point on.

 _The Next Hunger Games_

I invite Swift to dinner three days after the chariots. It's only due to luck that the two of us shadowing the mentoring process this year. I know it's obsessive but…

He comes into the restaurant in a nice black tuxedo overlaced in a red dress shirt. I smile at him as he enters in. "So, how's District 9 this time of year? Harvest going good?"

"Harvest isn't a common task for victors but I will tell you that we are working hard. My parents seem to be dumbfounded at not having to work for much during this time of year. Usually it's them who have to pick up the slack," he says with a small smile. "I don't think you called me here to talk about our District jobs."

I shake my head sadly and poke at my meat. "I don't know. I'm coming off of an arranged engagement that dominated much of my life. I don't really have experience with relationships, so I thought this was how it was supposed to go with dating."

He sighs loudly and drinks from the carbonated beverage. "Merit, I like you and all, but we just met. Call me a pessimist but I don't really believe in love at first sight. To be frank I think you can do much better, maybe with someone from your District? To tell you the truth about a week after your visit I started seeing a girl and I think that she and I are going to work out. I'm sorry to bring this bad news and I'm sorry to come off as cold."

I go blank and poke at the steak in front of my plate. It's too raw for my liking. "It's fine," I say. "So I guess I should cancel the rest of our date?"

"If we're going to be friends then I don't see what's wrong with hanging out together."

"And I trust that our two mentors will ally with our two tributes."

"Let's leave business out of this," Swift says. He holds his shoulder out and i take it eagerly.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **I really don't have much to say this chapter. I had several plot threads that I kind of wanted to visit but ultimately what you see here is fresh off of the document and copy pasted. Ultimately I think it's a fine chapter but I'm not sure how she'll stand out as the 15th victor.**

 **In other news I also updated my minor quarter quell fanfiction, Choices, voices unheard, a much shorter series about the 24 tributes of the first quarter quell so be sure to check it out**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	89. Kacey Lakiz

_**Victor #89;**_

 _ **Name: Kacey Lakiz**_

 _ **District: 03**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 088**_

 _ **Death: 146, Nymphia**_

 _Texas Holdem; Named after a long lost state of the country that Panem rose from. This five card competitive betting game requires making the highest ranked hand from the two cards initially dealt with and three cards turned over from a draw deck in the center_

I only have to take one glance at the girl to see that her bluff is wearing thin. "Ante up," I say, throwing three slices of bread on top of the pile of strawberries. Hagan looks at us both and flips over the last card. She and I are the last two all in with this deal, a boy looks sadly at his last strawberry sure that he'll lose it, another boy opposite him just lost three packets of sugar, and the rookie is off to my left while she glares angrily at us.

I can't contain the grin on my face as she flips out into a rage. She's a regular and a good bluffer but more often than not I have the bigger galls to bet. It turns into a look of worry as she pulls out a knife from her dress and charges at Hagan. He ducks out of the way but the girl falls into the window. She gets up , cut and bruised and the worse for wear as the others in the makeshift casino back away warily. I shove all the food I've won into my basket and bolt it with Hagan.

The girl chases after us, screaming that she's going to kill us as we turn into one of the factories. It's a high speed chase in a low speed area and I trip several times over boxes on the floor. The girl isn't doing much better and she's stopped by peacekeepers guarding the money box to the prominents in the District. Hagan and I try to slip out of the factory but a peacekeeper holds an arm out. "Excuse me madame," she says. "Can you tell us why that girl was chasing you?"

Immediately I break out into crocodile tears. "That girl took my berries and bread. I wanted to get them back but-but she got mad...she said that they were hers...please...help…" Hagan adopts a fearful look in his eyes and plays along, holding my hand tenderly so as to act as siblings.

The peacekeeper seems to be sympathetic about our cause and tells us to move along since she'll take care of the girl. We get out of the factory and I glance at my basket. Six slices of bread, 30 blueberries, 10 strawberries, packets of sugar, and a bag of cherry candy. This ought to last us through the reaping.

 _B.S. (Aka: Cow-poop, bull shit, Bluff) This is a card game about lying and deception just as much as it is about cunning and skill. The object of a game of Bullshit is to get rid of all your cards before anyone else. This is done in a relatively orderly fashion, but the best thing is that all cards are face down and a player can lie their head off about what they put on the table. The only way this can catch up with a player is if someone calls their bluff._

"So, any talents?" JAke asks.

I look at my 12 year old District partner, Weeble as we shake our heads sadly. "We're both from the community home so I don't think that will help tremendously and indubitably we are going to perish in this pageant of death." I make a grab at the bowl of bananas, as I learn the curved yellow fruit is called, hesitantly just as Jake grabs my hand.

"These scars on your fingers, they don't look like they're simple soldering scars," he mumbles. Wiress takes my other hand and shoves the banana in my mouth. "Hobbies?"

"I play cards with my friends," I say sheepishly. The truth is that I've been gambling food and tesserae bi-weekly for the past five years. "My best friend, Hagan, likes dealing but he's been teaching me how to shuffle lately."

Wiress opens her mouth to say something before shutting it as she peruses over my hands again and again. "My...Routa...BS"

"B.S?" Weeble asks.

"Yeah, that's one of the games I play with my other friends," I explain, half truthing it. "Wiress?"

She looks at me with a hardened glare before laughing and then resumes the glare. Uncomfortably I walk up to my bathroom to wash my face. I can barely hear the sound of the door opening just as I dunk my head into the chilled water and shoot up in fear. "I…" Wiress says as she stands in the hallway. "Bluff. Called it...tell me the real story Kacey."

 _Speed; The round begins when the players each flip one of the face-down cards in the center at the same time. Using cards from their hand, the players must simultaneously place cards one above or one below (or, optionally, of the same value) on top of either of the center stacks without hesitating to shuffle cards or otherwise delay the game (however a player may only play one card at a time)_

60, 59, 58, 57, 56… Assuming that the tail is at the 12:00 position I am at 12:00. At 3 o'clock there seems to be a frozen lake. From here I can see fish frozen mid leap and a boat stuck in the middle. Nine o'clock is mainly obscured by one of the tall boys, either from District 9 or District 6, but behind them I see what seem to be power lines that reach up to a mountain. Ten o'clock to one o'clock only has a tranquil winter forest.

38, 37, 36, 35… I didn't learn the names of many people for the training day. As I face the tail I assume that I am at the 12 o'clock position and the District 6 boy is halfway between 11 and 12 and the District 8 girl is halfway between 12 and 1. Then it's the District 1 boy-the attractive threat at a respectable 5'11" but with muscles of a miner from district 2. I think his name is Chad. After Chad it's a girl with similar facial features to the District 10 girl but her blond hair is enough to indicate that she's from District 5 and her name is Pressler. After Pressler my vision gets fuzzy but I'm sure that the order is my own partner-Marcon, then his ally, the girl from District 10 named Judy, and the boy from District 9 who is another threat.

15, 14, 13… anti-clockwise from the District 6 boy is the boy from District 4 then the girl from District 7, then the boy from District 10-Morris, who has vomited again. After Morris I can barely make out the figure of Vanity from District 1. Then it's the boy from District 12, Ferr, and then it's the girl from District 2.

That's all I take in before the bloodbath begins. I haven't settled on my destination so I dive into the snow, finding myself only a foot high above it. It seems to be the issue for most of us, but the tallest tributes are all making their way across the sea of white easily.

Sea.

I don't know how to swim but I climb up on the snow and spread out my body as if I was going to go swimming and begin to paddle to a conspicuously high pile of clothes. The other tributes seem to be struggling but I can see three of the careers at the cornucopia already. I plunge my hand into the freezing snow and pull out a backpack. It's going to have to do.

I try to paddle back but someone is grabbing at me. I'm dragged under the snow in a haste and can't find my assailant anywhere but I know that whoever it is is going to kill the both of us. I begin to kick madly and hear a sickening crunch just as I leap forward. I've lost my vertical orientation. I hold my snow boot and see that it's dripping with blood. I resist the urge of throwing up as a droplet falls onto my arm.

Shit. I'm upside down.

I right myself upward based off of the falling droplet and claw my way out of the snow, breathing like a madwoman. I seem to have grabbed a good bag because I see a pair of metal snow shoes that will help with this romp through the arena. I bolt forward, leaving my victim in the snow as I hear screams elsewhere.

 _War; Each player turns up a card at the same time and the player with the higher card takes both cards and puts them, face down, on the bottom of his stack. If the cards are the same rank, it is War. The player with the higher cards takes both piles, if the turned-up cards are again the same rank, each player places another card face down and turns another card face up._

Time keeping is an invaluable trait to have in the arena. I know that it's the 19th day of the Hunger Games. I've been responsible for two kills since the start. I don't know my victim at the start but the boy from District 12 tried to attack me for my lighter. He had little to burn on him but when I stabbed him Wiress sent over a deck of cards.

I hold out the cards as I wander the arena again, just like the night I refused the call of the feast that killed three others, and accidentally create a spark. I look at the cards again, they shuffle fluidly like any other paper card but they seem to be made of metal. "Fire…" the word escapes my lips like a forbidden password an seems to disappear in a breath of smoke. I get a set of matches in response, one labeled Chad and the other labeled Branch. My last two opponents. The box they come in is branded with 'Superior'.

Jake told me that Superior used to be a lake in Ancient America. Both of them must be at the lake.

I know where it is since I've rarely wandered far from it. The frozen fish is actually pretty good.

I curl up in a tree and sleep, knowing that the finale is imminent but I want to be the one to come out.

 _Egyptian Ratscrew (Egyptian War); The player who accumulates all the cards in his hand wins the game. A secondary objective is to keep from breaking fingers and hands._

I find Branch's camp first. She has a pink backpack with a number 9 on it. It must be her training score because the 9 girl was Priscilla. I set the cards in a blooming flower around her and set the flame. She was sleeping in a corner so I'm sure that her death is going to be quick.

How wrong I am.

In horror I see her streak out of a sleeping bag, screeching maniacally as she tries to put out the flames by rolling in the snow. The snow seems to melt around her as I hear a cannon fire. Then another cannon fires and then it's the trumpet. "Chad? Branch?"

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the victor of the eighty-eighth Hunger Games, Kacey Lakiz!" The hovercraft comes over with a massive heater that melts the snow. It picks up Chaad and Branch's bodies before dropping the ladder for me. My hands are bleeding and my wrists are burned and tears are streaming down my face.

 _Slapjack; each player quickly places the top card from his stack onto the middle of the table. Cards will start to stack up there. It is more important that the game moves quickly. Players continue to play cards and keep a watchful eye on the middle stack. When a Jack is played, the first player to slap the card wins the entire pile._

Hagan and I don't have a warm welcome. The community home kids are the ones who give me the welcome home party and he may be in the center but I see a sense of coldness in his eyes. It's a warm housewarming party and they enjoy the stocked up pantry and drinks. They even help me clean it up. "We believed in you Kacey," one of the younger kids, a girl named Jinky, says as her brother Blinky drags her out of the house. "You did it!"

I smile brightly as I shake hands with Geara, a boy who I saw in the casino and Sodder, a girl who likes telling stories. Hadan is off to the corner, drinking from the carbonated cider. Geara and Sodder are the last two guests who help me clean up. I give them some bread before they both walk out. "I-" I turn to Hagan hesitantly, motioning him to continue. "I didn't think you'd make it out, nonetheless kill like that."

He's much more gruff than usual. "I did it, so that's the important thing, right?"

"Victors are all one and the same," he grumbles. "Just thinking of themselves and not of their family or friends. How do you think it felt when I saw you-"

"I'm the selfish one?" I ask, my voice quivering. "What would you have done in my situation?"

"There was nothing I could have done, I would have just accepted it," he grumbles.

"Hagan, I did what I had to do to survive. If you want to stay in my house then you can but this kind of talking just can't go on for any longer you know."

He curls his lips and storms outside. As the door swings shut I slap myself in my face. I haven't lost my life but I lost my friend.

 _Mau; No talking, rules are figured out as play progresses_

Next year i'm invited into the victor's lounge for the first ever victor's game night. I've gotten better with names but not better with matching them to faces. I accidentally cal the new District 2 victor Striker instead of Merit and swap the names of Whelsis and Peeta.

"Wait, I have to bring my cards?" I ask one of the other victors.

"How else are we going to play that one game of yours, mau?" Merit chides. Or was she Jackie? She points to her nametag and yes, it's Merit. "Don't worry we'll all clean up for you."

A large table has been set up in the middle for the 23 mentoring victors this year. I sit at the 6 o'clock position. Proper-clockwise from me is Hellion, who I may or may not be crushing on, then Shawn, then Flora, then Striker, then Donabella, then Adam, then Peeta, then Katniss, then Fione, then Whelsis, then Swift, then Merit, then Jake, then Niccety, then Aubry, then Crockett, then Polyp?, then Jackie, then Vedits, then Blight, then Chaff and Levora.

"No talking, that's the first rule," I say as I give 5 cards to all of them. "I'll sit out to deliver the penalties but if you ever want to talk you have to say out of order. First person to get rid of their cards win. Get rid of cards by playing same suit, one number higher or lower or same, and loops in standard order. Play begins with Shawn and at that point there will be no talking."

To my surprise they all nod their heads and respectfully try to play along. With a smile on my face I see Shawn place a three of diamonds on the two of spades. He looks at me and I nod. Then it goes to Flora, who puts down a four of spades. Play is about to go to STriker before I walk behind her and say "Failure to say spades." STriker plays the four of hearts and says spades. "Talking." He takes his card begrudgingly.

It looks like Hellion is about to win when he places his last card down and smiles cockily before I give him one last card. "Failure to say Mau."

"Fucking shit," he curses.

"Talking." Levora has caught on the rules easily and gives Hellion the penalty card. She too is down to her last two cards. Levora cowers at Hellion but he sighs and takes the card. "Mau." Levora says as she plays her second to last card.

"Talking," Hellion tries to penalize.

I shake my head and give the card instead to Hellion, who looks around bewildered and facepalms. Play gets to Levora and she places her last card. "Out of order...I win…"

"Talking," Hellion says again, trying to penalize her.

"Hellion, she said out of order and has already won." I say, with a bright grin on my face. The temperature seems to drop in the room as I say the fact. "What? She said out of order and won, am I wrong?"

"Uh…" Jake stammers.

Levora gets up and touches my hand. I pull it away before I turn to her gaunt face. "I'm a guy. I know I don't look it. I still have boobs and I don't't have a dick but...I'm a guy. Please refer to me as such…" The older victor is already close to tears and grips onto the table tightly.

"Sorry about that," I say, smiling but unsure. "Hellion, as I was saying, he said out of order and has already won. And now that he won, he can create a new rule so long as it doesn't target one person. So LEvora,you can't make your rule 'failure to say I'm a stupid poop toilet when being Hellion' as that is too limited. You can make it every other person has to say 'Victory' or something like that."

"Got it," he chokes out, smiling and exposing his yellow teeth. "Still want to play Hellion?"

"Yeah, I think I get the mau rule, so it's when you place your second to last card you play it, right?"

"Talking about the rules." I give Hellion an extra card as the other laugh. If only we were friends in another circumstance.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **As we move into the middle of the road for ACAH, the formats are definitely going to falter a bit and some styles may be reused, though not in the same capacity. We have a card playing victor this time around and I hope that you like her. She's my personal favorite out of District 3 yet, so I wonder what you all think of her. Her past was a bit of a loaded one too, more than usual, since I like writing normal teenagers rather than ones with tragic pasts, but this was a challenge but withing 5 days of getting the header down she's here**

 **Also check out my (as of now) 5 chapter fiction on the first quarter quell, it's a quick piece of work so it shouldn't take you all much time**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	90. Bale Fure

_**Victor #90;**_

 _ **Name: Bale Fure**_

 _ **District: 11**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 15**_

 _ **Games: 089**_

 _ **Death: 153, Dillard**_

"Twenty-one...twenty-two…" I say with a strain. I drop from the chin up bar and lie on the floor, totally exhausted and not sure if I can last this routine much longer. "Are we done yet?" I whine.

"Yeah, actually," Bren says with that same cocky grin I see him in the fields with. "You're getting better at this, but you do have to start practicing on your father's set more often."

"Eh," I say dismissively. "I'm still not sure if I'm good enough at it, besides, it's much more fun with you around-even if I do envy how you can lift like 125 when I can only lift 50. You still haven't told me your secret how you do that."

"Like I've been saying, working in the fields really helps, but I haven't been doing that ever since we started hanging out. I'm not mooching off of you, am I?" He says worriedly. "I still feel bad that you get me all of these energy drinks to get me through the day. My mom always told me to pay back someone so-"

"Bren," I say, trying to calm him down. "Bren, when you're in a relationship then you don't have to worry about that. Time with you is good enough payment. Plus you have nice muscles."

"You're just saying that," he says, rolling his eyes. "Your dad doesn't take you down here to show you how to work out?"

"I don't ask and he doesn't bring me. I like hanging out with him but you know..one of District 11's victors, 6' something right now. I see him bench when I do my homework, he's gotten up to like 223 or something. He's gotten a bit more punchy ever since...Farrah died."

He puts a hand on my shoulder and hugs me tightly. "That was two years ago, so I'm sure that he's just trying to...find a way out…"

"I don't know Bren, I haven't really told you about their relationship. They were close, daddy's girl and an overprotective father. She was a year older than me, so when we went to the Capitol there were more opportunities for them to do." I sigh loudly and he holds my hand. "Dad says he loves me so I'm not complaining. I love going to the butcher's with him, playing sports, but I really want to like read a story with him."

"Don't worry," Bren says. "I take it that you want to be just like your dad?"

"It's hard you know? That's why I want to bulk up. I'm probably not going to catch up with him in height- at my age my dad was your height, and you're like three months younger than me. I'm stuck at 5'6" and waiting for my growth spurt. My older sister is still 2 inches taller than me and my younger brother is half an inch."

"Hey," Bren speaks up. "Putting yourself down won't help you in the long run. You'll spend more time picking yourself up than putting yourself down. Let me try to explain that you in those hoity-poity math terms. So you spend x amount of time progressing. It'll take you x/4 time to put you down and 2x/4 time to pick you up. So you really only have x/4 time to actually progress. I know you're serious about getting stronger so that's why you should hear that."

I blink rapidly for several seconds before hugging him. "Thanks Bren , you always do know what to say."

He rests his chin on top of my head and kisses me on the forehead as he gets up. "I have to go now, I saw the clock and it's a 15 minute walk from here to the bus stop, then another 30 minutes to home. My mom doesn't mind me dating you but she did extend my curfew by an hour. Have you told your dad yet?"

"...No… I haven't. I don't know how he'll react like that since from what I know I'm the first in the family to be like this. I'm sorry Bren but I just want to ride the storm."

"That's okay," he says, enunciating the last word. "Warnock, just...just tell him when you're ready, okay?"

"I promise I'll tell him tonight," I say, absolutely determined. "We still on for a picnic in two days?"

"Yep. I got a deck of cards for my birthday. I'll play some games with you after you show me this 'fitness log' you keep in your room to prove to me how much progress you're making."

I chuckle lightly and walk him up the stairs, kissing him on the cheek as I wave him goodbye. He steps down the porch and walks out of Victor's village. I run back downstairs to clean up the gym and get started on my homework. I attend school with Bren but I stay for the full day while he stays for the half day program. It's rough for him, coming out as gay and having to provide for his 4 younger siblings with only his mom and older sister for support. Still, it can't be that bad if he's strong enough to join a weightlifting team.

On my desk in the basement is a photo of my family, the day before Farrah's reaping. Mom and Dad stand behind the four of us kids, Laika, Farrah, me, and Tyson. Laika was 16, Farrah was 13, I was 12, and Tyson was 10. Mom and Dad were both 39, but were both pretty imposing. Next to dad is Aunt Ghia and her husband Paul. I don't like Uncle Paul that much. He yells at Aunt Ghia too much- especially when teenage dating comes up. In between Aunt Ghia is her three year old daughter, Kandee, and her five year old son, Bardley. Next to Aunt Ghia still is her and Dad's brother, Uncle Harter, and his girlfriend, Reeze, who holds her swollen belly. And behind them are my grandpappa and grammama.

Farrah was older than me by a year. It was a rough year for Dad and the other victors. According to him there were 2 victor kids that year and the goal was to keep the two daughters separated. Farrah lastedto the final eight when a trigger happy ally accidentally fired an arrow into her neck. Her ally came out of the arena. Dad got into a fight that year according to an anectdote he told me.

It's sad but I know that Farrah made a kill. I twas only one but I could tell that it changed her. I was worried about having a changed sister come back to my dad and to my mom. Those thoughts are negative so I really shouldn't be thinking about that. I pull out my calculator and get to the math problem, tackling exponential growth and decay this time around.

I finish my math homework just as I hear the front door open. I run up the stairs and find Dad waiting at the door. He swoops me into a big hug, he's always been fond of giving it to us, but for many more occasion since Farrah died. "Did you do your homework Warnock?" he asks.

"I finished the math homework dad. My essay for english just needs to be proofread."

"I'll turn on the computer for that then. But that can wait until after dinner, seeing as we have guests." Dad gestures behind him to show Mom wrangling in my cousins and holding several bags. "TYSON! Come downstairs with us to help us with tonight's amazing dinner!"

Tyson barrels down the stairs and slips on some slippers before running out into our yard. He picks up some of the fruit bags and brings it inside, followed by my cousins and mom. I hug mom tihtly as she sets the table. "Something wrong Warble?"

"Mom, I just want to hug you," I say, lying through my teeth. "And dinner smells good. What is it?"

"Something called a Turducken lovingly made from District 10. Aunt Ghia made some peach cobbler and uncle Harter brought us a healthy fruit salad for appetizer. So be a dear and help us set up."

The dinner is laid out on the table with some of the stacked plates that were gifts from District 2. Uncle Paul tries to take my seat at the table but Aunt Ghia convinces him to sit next to her, as we are the host family and deserve the seat at the table first and foremost. I wind up facing my dad with Tyson and Laika on either side of me. We get halfway through the appetizer in a hearty meal when I finally clear my throat. "Dad?"

"Yeah son?"

"I...I wanted to tell you...I think this is a good time to tell you that…" My words get caught on the tip of my tongue no matter how many times I slip out and I rub at my eyes as I feel everyone else's gazes slowly training on me. "It's...I know it...Dad I like guys."

To my shock he nods without showing hate nor approval. Tyson and Laika are more shocked, Mom is smiling sadly at me, but I hear some commotion starting up near Aunt Ghia. "Aww great... " Uncle Paul bemoans. "Ghia, you worthless bitch, you corrupted him."

She continues to poke at her salad, sighing before Paul turns her face to his. "Let go of me Paul," Aunt Ghia says sternly.

"Look at the mistake you've done. This is your fault for not saving yourself until marriage. I should have known I married an unhealthy-"

"STop with that nonsense," Grandpappa says speaking up. Laika tries to shush him but Dad is already standing up. "You don't talk about my daughter like that in the vicinity of her family. This has gone on for-"

"Guys please…" I try to speak up.

"You're a worthless man as a father," Paul spits at Grandpappa. "You let your girl have sex before marriage and now your grandson is a faggot."

"NONE OF THAT NONSENSE IN MY HOUSE!" Mom shouts, throwing olive oil at uncle Paul. It misses and hits the couch. Aunt Ghia tries to hold her back as Tyson, Kandee, Bardley, and baby Reed duck under the table. "PAUL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT MY SON!"

"Oh, should I blame you for this? This entire house is a goddamn asylum. I thought I married the sane one in the family but you're all just as crazy, it's even spread to this faggot in training!"

" **DON'T FUCKING TALK ABOUT MY SON LIKE THAT!"** Dad roars. He stands up, 6' and half an inch to Paul's five feet 11 inches. Dad pokes uncle Paul in the chest fiecely and Uncle Paul rears back, ready to punch my father before he grabs his wrist, twisting it in agony. Uncle Harder and Reeze try to wheel grammama out of here, talkign with her gently. Dad's argument is getting louder and he continues to break Paul's wrists. Paul rbeaks free but is flung into the kettle of boiling hot tea.

It spills all over my hand. I scream in pain and run to the sink, tripping over the tablecloth as I cradle it, seeing the blisters already boil. Dad runs to me, pulling the panic cord for the Victors village security offices. They remove uncle Paul from the premises after he lays several futile punches on Dad's back. In a haste I'm whisked to the small hospital bordering Victor's village with the largest corn field.

Bandages go over my right hand immediately and I'm given a pill after my dad pays some money to the orderlies. Then I'm taken back home under the night. "Warnock," he says. "Why were you scared to tell me?"

I try to face him but I just can't, glancing at the dirt road next to him or in front of me as I try to come up with an explanation. "I thought you'd be disappointed. I know District 11 is tolerant but Mom said that there were people like Paul growing up where she come from. I just feel weak next to you too." He puts a hand on my shoulder and sighs as we walk the rest of the way through the gates. "Dad, you're tall and strong so it's hard at times living up to you when I look like this. And being...that...I thouht I'd be less of a man compared to you."

He stops as we reach our porch, sitting on the chair and letting me sit on his lap like old time's sake. "Son," he says with a strained voice. "Your mom is just like you. It may be easier to connect with her with that, but I want you to know that I will support my children no matter who or what they become. I fought tooth and nail to get Farrah out, cuticle and follicle to get Laika her job at the library, and blued my balls to get Tyson his birthday presents. I know I'm not a perfect father but I want to connect with you. Just know...Just know that you are always going to be my son. As for manliness, I have a story to tell once we get Paul out of here." He hugs me tightly and we walk in, seeing the rest of the family eating dinner happily.

"Warble," Mom says. "Thank you for coming out to us. That was a brave thing for you to do."

"Paul won't bother you anymore. He is no longer a member of this family," Aunt Ghia says. "It'll be a hard time but your bravery finally helped a lot of us."

Dad and I sit down at the table, digging into the Turducken and eating heartily. Dad tells us a story about a man he met in the capitol, someone just as strong as him but probably stronger, definitely taller, and just seemed to be manly. It turned out that he was one of the victors' husbands and he was there with him on an assignment. I have to tell Bren that story as soon as I can.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **Bale didn't get the spotlight this time around and for that I'm sorry. It was kind of hard to get through what I wanted to with Bale so I kind of gave him his son some time in the sun with this chapter. I hope you like how this family dynamic went on this time around, for the most part the Fures are a happy family, even happier now that that pimple is gone.**

 **As we enter the tenth decade of the Hunger Games, I do have to wonder who your favorite victors have been overall. So if you're reading I do have a couple of questions. Who are your favorite victors? what are your favorite chapters? Who are your favorite characters? What are your favorite scenes?**

 **Anyways, I seem to be getting back in the groove but for how long I don't know**

 **I hope you all are doing well-especially as standardized testing season strikes up**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	91. Ketrin Nostar

_**Victor #91;**_

 _ **Name: Ketrin Nostar**_

 _ **District: 12**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 18**_

 _ **Games: 090**_

 _ **Death: Proportion Games, 160**_

Coming home from his walk around the neighborhood closest to Victor's village, Ketrin finds the door to the EverLark residence open. With a deep breath the newest victor takes his hands out of his hoodie's pocket and lumbers in, noting the absence of the EverLark children's laughter. He follows a light into the hallway, ending up at the EverLark master bedroom. It's another dead body.

Peeta Mellark's dead body.

He can barely register his surroundings when he hears an ear piercing shriek. "PEETA!" Katniss, now a mother of half a dozen kids, screams. Her oldest surviving kid, 15 year old Tulip, holds her mother up as Katniss' next two kids, Pior and Lolika, both 13, run up to their 'uncle' Ketrin as he stands in shock. Kikee, Katniss' 10 year old daughter, is by her father's lifeless corpse and crying just as much as her mother. 5 year old Harmon is curled up in his mother's arms. "PRIM! YOU CAN HEAL HIM?! PRIM? PRIM?"

Ketrin walks over to the only female victor, in as much shock at his mentor's death as Katniss is at her husband's death. "Katniss," Ketrin coughs. "Katniss, let's go. We'll call the peacekeepers and they'll...they'll find out who did this."

Katniss looks up at him and nods, propping herself up with Tulip's help. "Dad…" Harmon mourns sadly, pointing at the corpse of his father.

"He's gone," Katniss says sadly.

Ketrin takes the Everdeen family into his house, where unfinished project upon unfinished project is stacked three high on the floor and the kids dart around box after box, looking for the next great toy from Uncle Ketrin. He pours out a drink for the middle aged victoress and she takes it with a warm blanket over her shoulders. "Peeta got sick after your games," she says with a resolute tone. "We had so many bittersweet parties….. What with Greene in your games but you coming out…" She sighs and drinks the warm water in front of her. "The doctor said it was Shingles and I was never the best at medicine so I just put him on bedrest."

"Shingles?" Ketrin repeats inquisitively. "Shingles is a viral infection that causes a painful rash. Although shingles can occur anywhere on your body, it most often appears as a single stripe of blisters that wraps around either the left or the right side of your torso. Shingles is caused by the varicella-zoster virus — the same virus that causes chickenpox. Has he had chicken pox?"

"I don't know," Katniss says angrily. "Though it wouldn't surprise me if the townies gave it to him. He did mention something about getting a hard rash for 3 days but that's about it. No red bumps or anything."

The two of them sit in silence as they mull over the losses of the Everdeen family. It was as if someone was punishing District 12 in spite of the glamorous celebrations of Parcel day, freshly stocked stores, improved pavement, friendly peacekeepers…

"They still haven't found Prim's body either," Ketrin says with a wink. The two of them know that a party of misfits left District 12 around the tail end of a previous hunger games. Katniss seems to smile at it. "I hope that her body is buried."

"As sad as it may be, I hope so too," Katniss says. "I.."

"Katniss?"

"I don't even know if I loved Peeta but here I am crying over his death."

"That was an act?" Ketrin asks warily.

"Duh," Katniss says sarcastically. "I've never been good at acting and I know damn well that you're better at reading people better than I, but I did feel something to Peeta. I'm just so..so conflicted."

The peacekeepers come within the next ten minutes and inquire about Peeta's habits over the last couple of days. He's been eating soup, his condition didn't help much, and been drinking water because, again, his condition didn't help matters much. He was grieving for the loss of 14 year old Greene like Katniss. He was resting on his left shoulder to look at a family portrait of him, Greene, and the rest of the EverLark clan in the garden in Victor's Park's garden. Haymitch stumbles into the room just as the peacekeepers leave. "Bread boy?" he asks, prompting Katniss to run out of the room.

Ketrin breaks the news to him gently. He walks over to the cabinet and opens a bottle of chardonnay, pouring one out for each person in the room. "Haymitch I don't think-"

"They have a life ahead of them to heal that tiny little liver of theirs" Haymitch says disdainfully. "Now, what did the peacekeepers say he died of?"

"Prishingles or something like that. Something among the lines of chickenpox doing him in. Chicken pox for the adults? Shingles, that's what it was. He was sick for months. And Katniss said that today was probably stress."

"Bull," Haymitch says. "You know what Victor recovery is like after the games? Of course not, you were knocked out for most of it. I guess I'll have to tell you what Finnick told me. You'd be surprised what the hooker knows."

With strength unexpected of the 56 year old drunkard, he grabs the recent victor by the wrest and sends him into his cockroach nest of a house. He's never been in the quell victor's house before, and Ketrin takes a hesitant glance before sitting on a pile of trashy gossip magazines. "Where was it…." Haymitch mutters. He sees what he's looking for on the pile of magazines that Ketrin is sitting on and pushes the teen off. "Look at this medical record. It's signed by a doctor who had the...pleasure...to have both Dash and Finnick at once."

Ketrin rifles the book open to the section on victor recovery, finding a detailed itinerary of the shots they give to the victors. "Shigella Encephalopathy, Shigella infection, shin splints, shingles, shock, shock lung, short term insomnia…"

"Skipped it Kevin."

"You know…" Ketrin starts. The sheer amount of times he's heard that mispronunciation is getting on his nerves. "Never mind. They give at least one hundred shots to the victor after coming out of the Hunger Games, including shingles?"

"Bingo" Haymitch says. "I'll have Finnick and Lyme scope this shit out...Peeta's death is bound to be suspect."

He forces Ketrin out of the house and locks the door tightly. Ketrin retreats home, finding the peacekeepers harshly interrogating his girlfriend, his dad, his father, and his brother. "What's going on?" Ketrin asks, the anger rising through his throat. "They didn't do anything."

"Son, we can handle this," his father tells him.

"Dad, dad, let me talk to him," Ketrin says, his voice becoming ice cold. His dad, father, girlfriend, and brother all move out of the room as Ketrin locks eyes with the head peacekeeeper. "Who are you?"

"Investigator Prometheus," the peacekeeper says stoically. "We were told that Ketrin Nostar was currently out of the house so-"

"Listen, I am Ketrin Nostar. You dumb capitolites can't tell who the victor is, even after 2 months of me being plastered on screens bigger than your supposed authority, then leave."

"Alright, we have a verifiable account for your whereabouts for Peeta Mellark's death anyway," the peacekeeper says with a roll of his eyes. He points to two of the officers in the room and they all leave, tracking mud through the foyer, as the capitol made note of him to tell.

His parents walk in, his dad wheeled in by his father, and is girlfriend behind his brother. He runs up to Gina and gives her a big kiss smack dab in the middle of her forehead. "Peeta died," he says sadly. "Shingles is the most logical conclusion right now."

"Dad, what's for dinner?" his brother asks. Drodar still has his shiny black backpack on him and holds a package. "Ketrin this came for you in the mail."

"We'll worry about dinner in a moment," his dad says. "Ketrin, is it something we should talk about?"

He shakes his head, holding Gina close to him. "I'm...I'm just going to talk with Gina for a bit."

He takes her into his bedroom, kissing her passionately as she pushes away. "Ketrin, I'd love to...but what's going on?"

"Katniss lost her husband. I just want to be even more sure that the love of my life is still here."

"Ketrin...the alibi they gave for you not being here was because of Traci...wasn't it?"He curls his lips and remains silent. "Ketrin...I love you but...my heart is only for you."

"Traci is the butcher's apprentice, I came to inquire about the meat and may have stayed for too long. I know she and i-yeah. She and I had a thing in the past and I wasn't the most loyal because of her but know that now I am faithful to you. Gina...I don't want to lose anyone I care about."

She looks at him with a hard right eye and pulls him onto the bed. "I love you Ketrin, tell me you're strong enough not to die of some stupid disease or let your heart wander to another woman."

"I love you too Gina." The hour of pleasure comes and goes like it always does, but his heart is still racing as he waits to take a shower after Gina. He goes up to his bookshelf and pulls down an envelope of the Victor's contacts, Who was the guy Peeta was close to? The one from District 6?

There isn't one in the phonebook so he decides to call for Levora Taptrix, the only victor in District 6. It's a hard life for her, he'd figure. Judging by her lifespan, she'd probably know what to do when it comes down to seeing your mentor die.

He'll call her after dinner. There are more important manners and Ketrin was never one to let his mind settle on a single subject.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **There's somethign about the beginning of a decade that makes me write less words than usual. I don't know what it is but besides Haymitch I feel like I always falter with the beginning of the decade. Also ,when it boils down to it, this chapter deals with a mentor's death, something we hopefully haven't seen in a while. TI know this chapter went all over the place so if you guys would be willing to learn more about Ketrin let me know either in a PM or review and I'll fill in the details**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	92. Marcel Shimmer

_**Victor #92;**_

 _ **Name: Marcel Shimmer**_

 _ **District: 04**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 091**_

 _ **Death: 1 AHG**_

Cargo List for a Familial trip as Per norms of Marcel Shimmer to Isle Afiste

1)Five dozen bags of assorted vegetables of Carrots, Potatoes, Yams, Zucchini, Spinach, Lettuce, Kale; Each weighing one hundred pounds; Exported from District 11's victor's village

2)A pair of Chickens, goats, bovines, sheep, pigs, and an additional rabbit; Exported from District 10's victor's ranch

3)One hundred pounds of assorted clothes in sizes fit for adults and children directly from District 8's most profitable and effective factories

4)Hunting and Gathering tools forged directly from District 2. A dozen for each of the 16 families on Isle Afiste

5)Two thousand batteries and spare lights from Districts 5 and 3

6)New books freshly made from District 7

"The list is all set up and you just need your signature on this paper," the captain remarked. He glanced up at the lean victor as he rested on a set of luggage. With an almost uncaring glance he took a pen out of his jacket pocket and whisked away his signature. The captain let him aboard as one of the three dozen passengers. Joining him this time were two families making a return trip to their birthplace.

Marcel was guided to his stateroom by one of the five stewards aboard. He's never been one for the fancy shit in life, so it was to his pleasure that his stateroom was a simple furnishing. A queen sized bed, a dark oak nightstand, a small lamp, and a little trunk for his few belongings. It would be a seven hour trip on the S.S. Kiaki, from eight o'clock PM District 4 time to an early arrival at 5:00 AM District time to Afiste's sole port.

A map is placed gratuitously on his bed, thanking him as a humble sponsor who greatly improved island life for much of District 4's residents. In yeras before it would take weeks, maybe months to reach the main port of District 4. The funny thing was District 4 was the first District to have such luxuries. District 4 may have been a small District when speaking of the land area but it was one of two that had islands. District 7 was similar, having several towns in the ancient region of Alaska, and District 11 having some of its factories relegated to some outlying islands. District 4 was the most expansive, travelling to the ancient towns on a city-state once regarded as Hawaii.

The map is of the three deck ship. Most of the staterooms are placed on what is called Beta Deck, the storage on Gamma and the open air deck being Alpha, where the crewman's staterooms are. The dining room is located on Alpha, right next to a small gymnasium. "Some food would be good for now," Marcel decides. Gingerly unpacking his clothes the victor steps out of his room, locking it tightly because if there was anything he learned at the capitol and from Crockett, District 4 fans are really thirsty.

The night air is biting cold so he tucks his arms in his jacket tighter. He veers left into the dining hall, a small thing with one long table. Seated are a woman and three of her children. She loses track of one of the boys and has to chase after him just as he hugs Marcel's legs. "I'm sorry," she says. "We all are big fans of you. Little Leroy here says that you're his favorite."

"It isn;t a problem," Marcel replies politely. "So where are you going?"

"My husband has several hired hands in Afiste. We decided to surprise him as he finishes the work. Then we plan to go on a connecting boat to Isle Yucatan. It would have taken us at least 4 months without your innovations, so thank you."

"I admit it was a selfish desire to bring the small community of 400 closer to the mainland," Marcel says humbly. "But I'm grateful that my actions have touched people like you. Where are you from?"

"Mainland, closer to District 11 than District 10. I met my husband, Caspian, reaping month when we were both 19 years old. It was love at first ssight and we wed 3 years later. We've been married for 9 years now," she says enthusiastically. A waiter comes over with smoked halibut over oak wood and a side of caviar for the victor and a slice of prime rib for the woman. "It's been easier for us since your victory. Leroy looks up to you."

"I'm not surpirsed but I'm not any less honored," Marcel says. He continues talkign with the nice woman for the duration of dinner. When he begins to stifle a yawn she becomes apologetic and bids him a goodnight, prompting her three kids to do the same.

Heading out into the cold night, he turns to the small gymnasium, knocking out his late night workout routine. It's an unfortunate fact that he's all too aware of the victor's market. It's an open secret in the career facilities, much less in the other Districts. A six pack is all too common on victors since it's what the capitolites want. If they get a night with them and their six pack, or bulbous breasts if they ask for a girl, then their sponsorship towards tributes is basically guaranteed. His workout is done in an hour and by the time he checks his watch it's damn close to midnight.

He retreats into his room, sliding into his sleep wear for the night, a pair of boxers and a dark blue tank top. It's a cold night yes, but the ship is well insulated and he sleeps like a baby.

But he's weakest when he dreams.

" _Fucking Disgrace!" I hear Irene groan. She's staring at the body of the District 2 boy, Tantalus. The highest scorer of this year and he was killed when the District 3 boy landed a lucky punch. I guess we'll have to pick up the slack. "Squid!" That's my nickname. It's only because I'm 16 and she's 18. Never mind that I got a 9 to her 8 nor that I'm 6'4" to her 5'4". She's established herself as the leader and she's holding herself like that._

 _Seven cannons go off and she groans to the annoyance of Cadmius, the District 1 boy. His District partner, Francia, puts her hand on Irene's ass in order to calm her down. It's only five of us this year. The outliying careers have since stood up forthemselves and made it their own destiny. A parachute comes down in the middle of our circle and Irene walks up to it. She points to me to open it._

 _Reluctantly I do, faintly aware of a beeping inside. I grab a coconut-sized object from inside the package and throw it behind me. It blows up and impales Francia. I'm vaguely aware of being splattered with blood and Irene berating me again. Then she's abruptly silenced and I smell iron. "Did you all a favor," Cadimus says. "Now, let's see if the three of us can make some kills."_

 _Amycus isn't having any of it and tries to throw her disc at Cadimus, who ducks in fear. I throw one of the other contents of the box into her eye and she goes down. I look uneasily at Cadimus. He's 16 like me, 5'8", 125 pounds of healthy muscle. "I suppose the puck stops here."_

" _I suppose it does. Do you just want to remain allied?"_

" _Two heads are better than one. Besides, you said you were going to show me how it was you used an eight inch weapon to make a man or woman go on his knees?"_

" _I thought that night was just an experiment."_

" _Experiments need to be repeated in order to prove their success," I reply. He grins slyly and digs in the bags, finding a tent to build a shelter out of the cornucopia._

Marcel has always been good at waking up when he wanted to. It's before his dream goes wet. He's still straight and what he had with Cadimus was just an experiment. A fun experiment, Cadimus didn't mind, he wasn't hurt, and it was just an experiment. He strips off his clothes and heads into the bathroom, running the hot water over him and banging his head against the linoleum tile. How many more experiments would he have to endure as District 4's latest sex symbol? How would his family take the information?

He showers for a good hour and by the time he's dressed the ship docks at Isle Afiste. He's the first to disembark and meets up with his brother, a broad shouldered lad named Nestor. Their old handshake still stands and they hug. "Been too long without you. Our business has been booming."

"Yeah Yeah," Marcel mocks. "Look I've got a whole load of food to get down for the others. Are you going to help your younger brother or not?"

Nestor smiles good-naturedly and accompanies him to the cargo-hold. Their supplies are taken down to the family's lot that encompasses 2% of the island. The Shimmers were one of the founding members of the community. One of the things that Marcel prides himself in is that the island community is home to refugee families that can trace their lineage to all 12 other Districts of Panem. Marcel is a District 4 boy through and through but his paternal great-grandfather is from district 1 and his paternal great-grandmother is from District 10. His maternal great-grandfather is from District 7 and his maternal great-grandmother is from District 9.

He's proud of his heritage but under the rule of the Capitol he cannot be openly proud of anything but his District 4 heritage. It would be a crime if he revealed that he was not exclusively a district 4 child born and raised. As Nestor and he walk up the winding road up to his family's house, the happy memories begin to come back. "So did Justina ever move to the mainland?"

"YEah she was chasing after you," Nestor ribs. "Three girls are looking for love from what I've heard. Fifteen 'youths'- if that's what you called it in the Academy- have gone, inspired by you."

"Are you sure they aren't thinking about Wilma or Kahol?"

"They're dead! They aren't going to be influencing too many people. Remember you used to think that Kahol was the best tribute out there?"

"Come on, that was you wasn't it?"

"You're denying again, that isn't a good habit."

"And look you sound gay again," Marcel mocks.

"Maybe because I am," Nestor retorts.

"Oh yeah I forgot. How's that going for you?"

"Same old same old," Nestor replies. "Not luck finding a hunk on this island so I may have to tag along with you. Maybe you could hit me up with some of those victors you say you look up to?"

Marcel rolls his eyes and laughs as they enter the eight room house. A kitchen, a living room, two bathrooms, and four bedrooms was home to him, Nestor, and their 5 brothers and 7 sisters. THey grew up in a large family, and that fact still hasn't changed. Nestor strikes up the gas oven and begins to open a bag of supplies directed to their family. "We were just running out of these batteries."

"They can last for two years this time, so don't blow it out."

"No promises brother. Say, the other kids are plannign to move to the mainland. Well, Nisshon, Caelica, Fenway, and Curtley are planning to do so. Any tips for them?"

"It's a bit faster on the mainland and there are a lot of people. Get a job as soon as possible," he recommends. "I scheduled a week long business trip here, so tell me if you need help maintaining the house."

"It's good to you have you back."

"We all missed you brother. How about you help out in the gardens, but relax, I'm sure that a victor is busy."

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **So nothing wrong with a little world building, right? These next couple of Hunger Games are going to be slightly controversial. Next year is another electrifying victory, then the year after that is a bit more of a controversial look, and the curse of district 5 will strike again. Tell me what you think of Marcel. HE's straight but he's perfectly willing to experiment. Just so you know. With 9 chapters before the quarter quell I'd like to hear some speculation.**

 **Also you know that feeling when you reread the work** **that** **got you into fanfiction in the firstplace and now see all the flaws? I've been feeling that a lot lately. Also a lot of disillusionment...**

 **Sorry for the pessimism. I hope you all are doing well**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	93. Tungsta Stly

_**Victor #93;**_

 _ **Name: Tungsta Stly**_

 _ **District: 03**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 17**_

 _ **Games: 092**_

 _ **Death: Bandit, 149**_

 _One Year before the Ninety-Second Hunger Games_

District 3's square is bustling with people. Though the peacekeepers occasionally patrol the perimeter, that's all they do, patrol the perimeter. The interior of the square is where the richies feel the safest. I can tell you straight up that isn't the safest area for a prying hand like mine or any others.

Through the chaos and tranquil fury, I can hear my best friend, Waxtia, call out my name. "Really?" I say, navigating the crowd to get next to her. "We can't call each other by our real names Candle!"

"Sorry," she says mischieviously. "Any targets you want me to find, Tundra?"

That's my code name. I know it doesn't sound like much but all those years on the streets will surely remove your creativity like a snap. I crane my head over District 3's very short population and single out my target. Unlike District 8, the rich ones are the tall ones. A boy about 5'7" and with the facial features of someone about ¾ of the way through puberty is there. My guess is that he's 16 or 17. Perfect. "See that idiot?" I point out the taller boy to Candle and she nods. "One arm around his sister or his girlfriend, can't tell, but his wallet is out in the open. Do you see the green from here?"

"I can see the green from here," she echoes. "Tundra, I saw the baker's son with a bunch of pastries. Do you think the rest of us would be willing to go for some of that today?"

"Definitely. Last we had that was….was...Shit I don't even remember." She recoils at my saying 'shit', having never been one to curse. "You can go get the pastries. I know you're good at snatching food from others. And you;ve got a boy back home to take care of don't you." She laughs nervously and moves into the crowd, separating from me as I move in the opposite direction. The boy with the fat wallet is holding his girlfriend as they both cry regarding teh chaos unfolding.

I'll be blunt and tell you that I ry not to look up, it prevents me from looking forward. I slip my hand out from my jacket pocket and make a quick grab at the wallet. He moves away with his girl before I can grab it. I mutter a low _shit_ and move backwards, trying to find some other members of our squatters' gang. The boy who's typically the third in command, I find easily. Vexcer, codenamed Vesta, has successfully separated from his doting family and meets up with me. "What is it?"

"Ya' need to make a distraction," I tell him.

"How?"

"Knock him down? I don't know, start a fight?"

"I've been itching to throw a punch at those stupid fat stackers all day. No good faggots won't know what'll hit them," he says with a malicious glance. It's almost comedic how he tears off his sleeves but he has good reason too, exposing his muscled biceps and toned triceps to the congested air. He looks at me with a wicked grin and charges into the crowd, almost pouncing on the target's brother.

If only he had something of a better reach. To my shock he's holding off on his own but when the taller target reaches in to stop the fight, he gets even madder and works on punching out. Just my luck, the chaos has spread and the boy's girlfriend isn't anywhere in sight. I grab the boys wallet and bolt, locking eyes with Vesta just as he turns coat. I'm sure to meet him after the reaping. The peacekeepers seem to be focused on another portion of the fight that broke out.

"Hey," I hear someone call out to me. I see Vexcer, black hair matted and frayed, a scratch mark on his arm, and a slight tear along the stomach of his shirt. "Get it?"

I smile brightly and encourage him to follow. AS the second in command I've instructed Waxtia to meet us after reaping day. We still need to stage an accident to account for Vesta's clothing damage. Our squatter's house is located about a quarter mile from town center through several alleys. I suppose that after the mandatory viewing then we can stage a mugging or something. "Tundra?"

"Do you want to stage a fact that you took a fall in a dark alley?"

"If it dissuades suspicion," he says with a sigh. "So, my story- walking to the reaping I tripped becuase a trash container of one of the richest families was stored improperly in the alley andI cut my shirt. I regret appearing like this in front of the capitol but I love the Hunger Games so much that-"

"Jeez, I know that you're a good actor but you don't have to shove it down my throat. So that's it," I say while rolling my eyes. He shuts up and directs his attention to the screen. The careers have collapsed fairly early this time around and the two survivors, the 'straight' boy from District 4 and the gay one from district 1 have retreated to the cornucopia. The camera cuts away, announcing mandatory viewing as over.

"Let's go then," Vexcer says quietly. As we meander through the perimeter of the square I see nothing of Waxtia. Vexcer and I make a stop at one of the portable kiosks, shelling out some of idiot boy's money for a savory hot-dog and even have fifty cents left over for packets of condiments. We'll have to share it with the other squatters at the residence. From the gossip all around us I can tell that district 3 is disappointed at both of their tributes dying in the bloodbath, but I'm also hearing reports that even District 2 died during the bloodbath? It's not looking favorable for the careers.

"Hey," I say as the thought comes up. "Let's take a detour to Victor's Village."

He looks at me with a glow in his eyes as he realizes that Wiress is still in the village with all her food that she loves giving away. The two of us break into a sprint and run the fifth of a mile to our Victor's Village past Victor's Park. Kacey's statue still glimmers so I'm momentarily blinded but Wiress' house is among the closest to the border so the trip isn't that far. I hold onto Vexcer's shoulder and have him run forward to the front gates, where Wiress seems to just be walking up. "Hi," she says kindly. She's always been one of the funkier victors. "Food. You need it."

The two of us look at each other and nod. "If you don't mind that is," I quickly add. She smiles warmly and holds the gate open for the two of us. She invites us in, dropping an IV bag for her...wife I believe… and hits a button on her wall. From a high rack a delivery of food is dropped in a dainty picnic basket and opened up. A fluttering paper falls down with a description of the letters.

"I like you," she says. Pointing to me, she adds, "You'll go far. I know that." Then she points to Vexcer and says "You...My dad.. I see my dad in you."

I look at Vexcer confused. It's known that Wiress was the daughter of a gay man and his temporary wife. Her father died last year, so it's shocking that Wiress mentioned it. I smile brightly at Wiress as Vexcer looks on confused. "Thank you again Ms. Casio," Vexcer says politely.

"I'll see you soon," she says with a half smile. That's...that's pretty foreboding. I look at Vexcer as he wrings his hands uncomfortably while we leave the victor's village. The walk takes us to our residence at about 7:00 and we take the elevator up, ready to have dinner.

There are eight other kids in the house. Me, Vexcer, and Waxtia all came upon this apartment when we ran away from the apartment that killed the rest of our family. We were shortly joined by Solder and his brother Spark, who take one curtained off room, Cordelia, Moda, Fritz, Herbert, and Guinevere. Me, Vexcer, and Waxtia all take turns being the first, second and third in command. "Oh good, you're here!" Waxtia shouts. She opens the curtains and virtually quintuples the floor space. Solder and Spark bring out the table as Herbert and Cordelia bring out the little cooler we have for keeping things cool.

We call our space a squatter's residence but we still pay some rent. It's during dinner we each contribute $15 to a pot that should be able to cover us for two months. "No one is hoarding any money, right?" Fritz says warily. All of us nod and continue to bite into a slice of bread. It's an uneventful dinner so most of us retreat to our personal spaces.

"Are you heading to bed Vexcer?" Waxtia asks him.

"I need to talk to Tungsta, I'll be heading off soon," he says. At the sound of my name I perk my head up and look at him as he awkwardly waves. Waxtia smiles a smile that knows something and leaves to her partition. Vexcer opens the door and I follow him into the hallway. The residence is on the fourth floor of 15 and I can hear the clamor from the 11 floors above us as he takes me to the ice closet and communal bathroom. "We...we haven't had a meaningful talk in a while have we?"

"No, no we haven't," I say quite hesitantly. "What is it?"

He puts his hand on the ice machine and sighs. "I want to get these two things out of my way first. We've been friends for so long but I don't want this to ruin what our friendship is. Look. I know District 3 isn't tolerant of people like me but seeing Wiress today kind of compelled me to say that...say that I like both. Both guys and girls. I like girls more but I can't help looking at some guys," he says with a sad sigh.

"Oh, that's it?" I say dismissively. "That's why you're comfortable with saying faggot?"

"Yeah basically," he says. "Look, I know it's hypocritical but it just makes me feel comfortable. Besides. That's...that's not what I'm worried about."

"Then what is it?" I ask hesitantly. He turns on the water in the sink as to create some more noise but turns to me and holds my hands. "I'm not sure if-I'm not sure. I'm not sure if you're willing to uhh...Let me just say it. I like you. I want to spend my life with you. I don't want to be here alone so I want you to be here with me. I'm not sure if you'd like a faggot for a future husband but I really really want to stay with you. Please."

I can feel a slight twinge of blush rush forward and hold his hands tighter. "I-you know...I think I can look past that. No, I will look past that. You still like girls, so you aren't entirely a faggot, right? And...you're one of my best friends and I like wandering the District. I did tell you first and foremost that I want to grow old and fat with someone."

"I mean I don't want to grow fat-"

"And I'll support that. I hope that I become old enough to be waited upon by an amazing husband with maybe 2 kids as a fat woman and potentially fit husband. You'd be an amazing husband," I say quietly. The steam from the water seems to push me closer to him and I kiss him lightly on the lips.

"It's official?" he asks excitedly. I nod, just as excited as he begins to laugh. His laughter's contagious.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps Here**

 **When it comes down to it I haven't really delved into the life of victors before their Hunger Games. The reason I try to justify this is that the life of victors before their hunger games is that they're typically glossed over in history, with many tribtues being relevant if and only if they have a meaningful contribution to the victor or are the victor.**

 **And I'll tell you right now that Tungsta does meet her goal, growing fat with a loving husband and having 2 kids, better than most of the others. I hope you got her personality down pat with what I have so far, and the squatter life is pretty common in District 3 but this was the first time I dealt with it**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **P.S. Next chapter is going to deal with some heavy material that may or may not be displayed incorrectly**


	94. Canus Orion

_**Victor #94;**_

 _ **Name: Canus 'Charlotte'**_ _ **Orion**_

 _ **District: 02**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 093**_

 _ **Death: Nervo(123)**_

 _Five Hours after recovery, 1 day before victory interview_

The roof isn't bugged. Wiress is too nice for her own good, willingly debug such a big area under the threat of her own security. The victor from District 2 holds up a mirror- her token in the arena- and once again sighs. The one staring at her is a handsome boy, with a chiseled jawbone and alluring eyes and a slightly crooked nose that caused a lot in the capitol to crook their nose in 'his' honor.

She hates it. She'll let everyone know she damn well hates it if only Panem wasn't like that. She saw the backlash to that District 6 victor. She doesn't intend to go that route but there may as well be no escape. She's forever trapped like she always is.

The door to the roof opens uneasily. _Fuck_ Charlotte thinks to herself. The only District 6 victor left, Levora Taptrix, has brought friends. Bale Fure of the 89th is a teddy bear who has the strength of more than his fair share of miners. Meditara and Swift, fists clenched, walk in together almost like they always do, and Katniss Everdeen, ever tired, evemore, ever alert, brings up the rear and holds Levora steady.

Charlotte holds the table up for him and brings out an old pastry dish. It's called a panini and he really wants the morphling to trust him. After an apprehensive glance, Levora digs in, sauce running down his throat and a nervous smile at his cheeks. "So," charlotte starts in that same masculine voice she's learned to hate.

To her shock, the older victor recoils, holding up the plate against his face and trembling wildly. "Don't hit me!" he shouts in the mutilated voice.

"I won't," Charlotte says sadly. "I'm Canus Orion as the capitol calls me. I've hated that name ever since Iw as 5 years old. I hate my voice, I hate my height, I hate tuxedos, I hate a lot."

Levora lowers his plate and forces his own broken eyes to meet the victor in front of him. "Sorry?"

"I called you up here since you understand what I'm-"

Levora laughs, laughs in relief, but also laughs in anger. "What you're going through?! No sonny! You don't know jackshit! I've been ostracized! I've been hurt, I've hurt myself, the capitol hurt me, my family hurt me, everyone hurt me! You fucking lapdog just can't deal with the stress of your hair not being put right!"

"Levora please I just want to-"

"Do you not think I know of the double standards?! How your filthy asses can train to slit a boy in the perfect places to hear his scream but when my tribute does it I'm instantly villified, punche,d and made a human punching bag again?!"

"LEVORA SHUT UP!" Charlotte says, her voice rising. "We don't know anything of each other."

"Fucking straight we don't," he replies bitterly.

"So let me tell you. I was one of three triplets. The oldest triplet. I lost my mom in childbirth so it was me, Equus, and then Ursus. Ursus was always loved, my father always invested most of his time in him. I could see it in his toy bear whereas my toy dog and Equus' old toy horse were just that, toys. I saw him put that love. The three of us signed up for training together and Ursus was the best since my dad said so. Only because my dad said so. He made his first kill at 12. It was his only kill before he took his life. My dad was devastated. Equus and I had to pick up the pace. I won the right to volunteer at 16 but Equus washed out."

Charlotte takes a breath and pushes back the tears. "But to hear yourself suddenly being lauded as the best didn't help with myself. I knew something was lacking. I knew something wasn't making me happy and I knew it since I was 5 years old. That was when I first saw your hunger games." Levora recoils, he's about to go into another lapse and Katniss rushes to him, casting a bitter glare.

"We can go if you want Levora."

"No, let him finish," Levora wheezes.

"I saw your little rebellion and...I hate saying this I really do, but seeing you rebel helped light something in me. That was when I hated my name. That's why I'm asking you for advice. How do you deal with this thing?"

"Thing?" He raises an eyebrow, drinking from his shaking cup of soda and looking with erratic eyes at Charlotte.

"I don't know what it's called. In District 2 we're taught that boys are born boys and girls are born girls. But you know. I don't know what it's called but if anyone does it's you. Look. I'm not a boy. I have a cock, my bunkmates at the academy said I should be proud of having seven inches but I'm not! It's not me! Levora. Don't call me Canus even if I introduced myself to you as Canus. I've read an old book and I've always liked the name of one of its characters. A clever little spider named Charlotte."

The silence on the roof is deafening. Bale, Meditara, and Swift all begin to stare at Charlotte, tears escaping her eyes and runnign down her masculine face. Bale is the first to walk over, resting a hand on his shoulder and wiping at his tears.

"That's why you're my favorite victor. You know what it means to be… How do you deal with it? How do you deal with-"

"Being transgender?" Levora completes. Charlotte looks at him with hope in through teary eyes and a half open mouth. "I...you shouldn't be asking a lump of disgrace like me."

"BUt you know. You've lived with this since at least your games. Dad, Equus, and I have a rift all between us."

Levora breathes, gripping the table as Meditara moves to hold him up unsteadily. "I've never met anyone. I've never met anyone else who understands. And now that I met the person who does, I've insulted her District. I've insulted her culture."

He looks up, glancing at her. "Don't be like me," Levora whimpers. "I get testosterone off of the black market. Don't do that. Find someone who cares, make Equus care if he must. Find a good doctor to help you. That's...there's more but this is illegal. We have a lot to talk about and our time is limited. It really helps finding the clothes that fit. I know it's weird but… I thinkt hat a girl like oyou would look lovely in a dress."

"And...and I have some leftover tuxes if you want them."

 _Year of the 113th Hunger Games_

The victor lies on her bed, sharing a last galnce with the people she loves. Her father wrings his old hat again and again. It took years upon years to get him aboard but when he did, he finally came around. His other brother Equus, long since over his jealousy of Canus and Ursus, knows he's the decoy. Their nurse, a woman named Domonitia, has looked up the long forgotten procedure, practicing it time and time again on those willing, perfecting it. Still, she expects the life for Charlotte to be hard even with the estrogen he's taken.

If she lasts that long that is. Domonitia is an old peacekeeper, having traveled to District 6 in years past to give Levora the last decade of his life to be who he truly is. She expects the same for Charlotte. The woman who will once have been known as Canus Orion looks at his doctor before the anasthesia kicks in, smiling and tracing a heart in an overly sappy symbol.

If done correctly, Charlotte will live the rest of her life away from victor's village, in a far off village, wearing her dresses and being a dutiful maid. The opinion on those who are transgender has been changing, no doubt in part to Levora's supposed death, but there are still plenty of biases.

The procedure takes almost twelve hours. Charlotte's once identical triplet, Equus looks at his sister as she gazes at herself in the mirror, smiling and crying in beautiful joy. Charlotte hugs her brother and father one last time before the rest of their plan goes into action. "Are...are you sure?" Charlotte chokes out for the last time.

"Charlotte, I'm damn sure," Equus replies in his boisterously deep voice. "Father, we're still going through this, right?"

Their father, their patriarch, holds his children's hands and smiles. He tries to say a little more before clamming up, wiping his tears once more. Equus pulls out his photo of Charlotte when she was still Canus, gulping heavily. He looks strikingly like his former brother even with the hair color. Lucky thing that Charlotte has showed up to the capitol with Equus' same hair color last they saw of her, when Corbin was brougt home.

"We need to go if we need to leave undetected," Domonitia says. The trip to her village is going to be long, but she's mapped out the routine of the peacekeepers at night, they can escape easily. Charlotte takes a glance at her small family once more. Equus' ex-wife won't be looking for him anytime soon and if they're lucky, neither will his daughter-who probably won't even remember their victor relative. Domonitia opens the door and the two of them leave for the final time.

Father and son get to cleaning the room, disposing of all evidence for the surgery that went on. Once that is cleared father looks at his very last son, his youngest, just as he pulls out the murder weapon. In order to make the scene look convincing, they've agreed to do it when he's least expecting.

Father holds the knife, tears streaking down, trying to atone for what he's about to do by whispering a prayer that's since been long forgotten. He knows that peacekeepers will come and execute him for the death of the famed victor Canus Orion.

The knife flies into Equus' stomach. The youngest of the triplets looks at his father with a smile, now grateful that he can do this for his older brother, and slumps on the floor. Father cries loudly as he runs out of the room, having been instructed to set fire to a majority of the items to conceal that the body is of Equus Orion, not Canus Orion.

Canus Orion died that day. Charlotte Orion lived on.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I want to apologize because of this chapter. I have no idea what to do for Charlotte other than the fact that she was the second and last transgender victor of the Hunger Games. I had ideas of a mentorship between her and Levora but who knows how well that went through. I've been wrestling with these ideas for a while and I hope its presentable. I want it to be known that this place should be a safe place for everyone, regardless of gender, and while I don't understand the plight of transgendered individuals, I want to be an ally for them**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps.**


	95. Emmeline Utral

_**Victor #95:**_

 _ **Name: Emmeline Utral**_

 _ **Age during games: 16**_

 _ **District: 5**_

 _ **Games: 05**_

 _ **Death: 159, Cyrus**_

 _ **HOW IT ALL WENT WRONG: THE CORRUPTION OF THE 94TH hUNGER GAMES AND THE CONTROVERSY OF THE 95TH VICTOR**_

 **By Capitolitan Writer Lucina Dulcinae**

Even a month after the Hunger Games, when games fervor typically dies to the replays of our favorite one hit wonders released during the all time headlining event, Emmeline Utral's Hunger Games still remains in public mind, no doubt in part due to the lengthy trial regarding President Fulmine and the Districts of Panem. In what could be the only sign of District unity, Stark Jarvis, Lyme Phoridan, Finnick Odair, Emmeline utral, Kacey Lakiz, Jackie Tymphus, Vexcer Smith, and many other noted District residents fought passionately against President Fulmine and headgamemaker Pileas.

 _A promising Start Dashed!_

That was the question on many of our minds when a normal broadcast of the reapings suddenly went awry. Six bold volunteers, 18 year old Gust Calloway, 17 year old Wisp Fantasma, 18 year olds Integrus Foceelir and Serephina Fenrir, 17 year old Cispir Adriatic, and 16 year old Vespacia Frustell graced the stages of the career Districts.. From the semi-careers we were all graced with the bauty of 16 year old Patch Haddison as he volunteered with his partner, Kitt Zeniddle from District 8. From Districts 7 and 9 we had two volunteers, Filomena Carcall and Direena Vispra as two strong girls juxtaposed against their District partners, River Dawson and Creek Miller.

Even the thirteen year old Shaft Clivers of District 12 seemed to be crafty enough to show some semblance of promise even with the 18 year old Rose Paxts. District 11 brought a pair of 14 year olds, Dunbar Wild and Caeldori Nidai, the latter of whom started a fashion trend of dark skin and slanted eyes. District 10's Jaguar Shirewind and Cougar Shirewind, brother and sister, proved to have the promise of a lethal District 6 looked to be overshadowed by the rest of the capable competitors, Click Guzmann and Derby Cattin, as well as their potential allies FoGeara Shironome and Sonoshima Koizumi of District 3, they proved to be viable bets as the days went on.

However, as Vexcer Smith puts it, "On the train Tungsta and I saw… we saw Emmeline get reaped. The escort just… her name was Justina was it? She almost fainted and when she called for volunteers she sounded almost… almost desparate!"

The sight was seen all through Panem watching the 16 year old Emmeline Utral stagger forward on the shoulders of peacekeepers, her blouse barely holding in her pregnant belly. Her boyfriend, Furter IronWench, was among the many who desparately tried to volunteer. "I got her pregnant. We used a condom but it broke and I couldn't pull out in time. I wanted t volunteer in her stead. Yes I fucking forgot about the rules (sic)."

The unforseen surge of volunteers from the 18 year old girls was swiftly silenced when a peacekeeper's stray bullet landed in one of the girls leading the charge. "I was told to pick another name," Justina says quietly when we ask her. "I could not ask for volunteers or else a poison dart would land in my neck, according to the mayor."

Reaped next was Percival Derrig, a 17 year old boy who looked strong enough, but all eyes were on the weeping 16 year old and her belly as she weeped in front of her knocked out boyfriend.

 _Training Revelations_

"The Hunger Games are meant to affect everyone," President Fulmine was heard quoting. Snow's own successor was seen by many as unnecessarily cruel when it came to the Hunger Games, and absolutely abhorred the prospect of volunteers. His supposed lackey during this games was Head Gamemaker Pileas Ruminas the Fourth. Having inherited his name from an honorable war veteran, as the days of the trail commenced, Finnick Odair would prove that the gamemaker was not as honorable as his partner.

Emmeline states that during training everyone decided not to kill her, not just to get on her side, but because even the career academies are not trained in killing pregnant tributes. "We are informed that we will go up against 23 other teenagers, not 23 teenagers and whatever fetuses they may be carrying," Nox Merdon was noted as saying when he hopped on the train to District 2.

It seemed as though without anyone killing her, the games would have their victor determined.

 _A diffused Start_

The 60 seconds began like usual, except for the unusual gust that seemed to wrack Emmeline Utral, Shaft Clivers, and Integrus Foccelir. It had garnered enough strength to knock the poor girl off of her pedestal, yet the bombs did not deploy. With a fifteen second surplus, she was encouraged by Integrus to run away from the battlefied with her choice supplies, his commanding voice not letting any of the other tributes run forward.

"Oh," Kacey Lakiz would chime in her signature sarcastic voice. "They'd kill of the girl from District 3 in the 25th games that way but when a baby is involved they won't do that. Yet that was the best thing they could do to the District 5 girl. She got a good distance away, but a good distance wasn't enough and she bumped into the District 6 girl. The girl threw a knife in reflex, but as soon as she saw who she was aiming for, she froze, and Emmeline thrust her sword into the 6 girl's stomach."

During our interview she was seized by the president himself, who proceeded to shout at her with a volume similar to the cannon fire. I, however, heard every word, which everyone wanted to hear. It seemed like it was the turning point that seemed to turn every Panemian citizen against President Fulmine.

" **You are not to talk about this. The gamemakers have all been punished for their mistake to eliminate that District 5 girl when they had the chance. Once she is gone then all of Panem will no longer be allowed to have volunteers. I hate the Districts. I haven't forgotten what you did to us.** "

Kacey, upon stumbling in and hearing my recording, began to speak more confidently. "Does a fetus know the crime that it is supposedly atoning for?

 _A new Beginning_

Birth waits for no one, and the stress of the Hunger Games caused the District 5 girl to collapse in front of the tentative pair of Vespacia Frustell and Filomena Carcall, The pair looked at each other before sharing their meager soup with the girl as the contractions began. Her screams racked the arena for five hours, and the other two in the arena knew to keep their distance.

After her mother made 2 kills, after nine days in the arena, and after five hours of labor, Emmeline's daughter, who she named Allique Filomena Vespacia Utral.

Having been named after both of her midwives, Allique was born a healthy girl of blue eyes and light blond hair, the perfect blend of her mother and father. "My girl was reaped but we were loyal! I manage the largest nuclear power plant and her mother is my sec-second in command. Why?" her father would wail. "And now I might lose my granddaughter alongside my only child!"

Emmeline's two midwives looked at each other, pulling out a small vial of poison each, and raised a glass, drinking it together for the little girl in front of them.

 _Finale_

"Kill me," Integrus told his final opponent. "I lost my mom due to my own birth."

The kill was quick, but Allique was in pain, crying because a piece of rubble landed on her arm, mercifully sparing her life. Emmeline barely had time to touch her baby before the trumpets blared and the hovercraft picked her up. She wept on the hovercraft, according to the testimony of 'Dash's favorite doctor' Melia Volvetter.

"She tried to get at her baby. I couldnt' let her because she was healing. Then I was visited by headgamemaker Pileas. He looked desparate, pleading for his life."

The hovercraft contained an unusual stowaway, Panem's mister perfect, Finnick Odair, and he confronted the deluded headgamemaker. Thanks to Kacey's technology, the horrid truth was revealed during Emmeline's tearful reunion with her baby, lvie on stage with Master Cepheus.

 _Secrets revealed_

As Emmeline crawled to her baby on stage, weeping all the way, Finnick Odair's voice boomed through the stadium, revealing that Pileas had started rigging the reapings since his own teenage daughter got pregnant from her boyfriend. First was a pregnant girl from District 2 who was volunteered for by a District 2 trainee, who had no idea that she was barely in the cusps of pregnancy. A one month pregnant District 10 girl was picked the next year, who kept her pregnancy an unabashed secret since she had no one and talked to no one back home in the ranches of District 10.

He also revealed Pileas' infidelity with President Fulmine and Fulmine's heiress, further scandalizing the Capitol to the point of despair. The ending had to get cut as riots broke out in the stadium. Emmeline was hastily shipped to her new home in District 5, where she learned Allique's tiny left arm was amputated.

 _The trial begins_

Pileas could only live for long enough to live through the pre-trials, hearing his family name slandered, his children voluntarily exiling themselves from their father, and his noted rival, Junius Gordanis, takign the role of headgamemaker by popular vote of the gamemakers. He ended his life seven days into the 23 day long trial.

President Fulmine was bombarded with hate, indirectly humiliating the once prosperous name of Snow- the one who chose him as a worthy successor, and his own wife taking her life. Still, Fulmine defended himself to the very end, saying that he would not be humiliated by the "rebellious scum" of the Districts. One of the final damning pieces of evidence was Kacey Lakiz' recording, duly noted by the lawyer team of Stark Jarvis, Swift Stryson, Jackie Tymphus, and Lyme Phoridan. Yet the one that turned the public against him was in the treaty of Treason itself.

" _In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public "reaping."_

A fetus does not fit within that age range, and does not comprehend that it is being punished for the crimes of its ancestors. The former President was seen leaving the trial room to a public jury, barely constrained by Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, and Francisco Suales. One could see the glances the three shared with each other before dropping their arms and calmly dodging the lynch mob that surged forward to take former president Fulmine.

A new president came as soon as the old one died, Orpheus Flare, a personable man who understood the struggle of the Districts. "No longer would Panem have a pregnant tribute. No longer would the technology to prevent this from happening be withheld, in doing so, we will usher a new age of prosperity as long as the Hunger Games lives on."

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **it's another shorter chapter this time around and it really was another one that I was stuggling on. It's known in the community that I absolutely abhor pregnant tributes because I do not make tributes capable of killing a pregnant woman, so it was really hard justifying how a pregnant girl would come out of the arena. So, that is the reason I will not allow a pregnant tribute into any SYOT or make a pregnant tribute. This chapter really came out as an author filibuster so I'm sure the quality isn't good, and the unity showed in Panem is temporary, as President Flare would set about to appease all of the Districts, though the appeasement would be unbalanced.**

 **In other news, Emmeline marries her boyfriend shortly after.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	96. Denim Cupin

_**Victor #96:**_

 _ **Name: Denim Cupin**_

 _ **Age during games: 18**_

 _ **District: 8**_

 _ **Games: 095**_

 _ **Death: 3 AHG**_

 _10 years old_

"Bet you can't catch me!" Fievel snorts. With a new drive in my head I race through the alley with Gary at my side to catch up to him. Fievel's fast, but I tap him on the shoulder, and immediately turn around on the soft cobble. I don't look where I'm going and accidentally run into a tall guy as he looks at a piece of paper.

"Sorry sir!" I apologize. I look around him to see a bunch of papers dropped all around him. He sets about to pick them up and I offer to help. I catch about 10 that have almost flown away. "Here you go sir," I tell him. "These are your...academy registration forms?"

"Thank you very much," the man says. "If you want to do something else other than run around the streets then I'll give you my card. Talk it over with your parents."

He digs in his trench coat and pulls out a card. I look at it. "Vniect Baker," I read the name aloud. Is Baker that common of a name? There's victor Shawn Baker and my friend Cerrity Baker and then now there's Vniect-or VincentBaker?

"Hey where'd you go?" Gary asks me. He is walking next to Fievel and Flannery as they all seem bored. "We were about to play hide and seek but now it's too late since you went somewhere."

"I had to help this guy, he gave me this card," I give the card to them as they strain to read it. "I don't know what it is but-"

"Baker? Like Shawn Baker?" Flannery shouts. "He is so cute! And his son Vincent is just as cute!"

"Shawn has a son?"

"Yeah they like, work in the academy so-"

"Wait," I stop them. "I got scouted?"

"It might just be a guy impersonating Vincent," Fievel says. He's always one to not believe stories. "Want to head back home?" That's something we all can agree on. Our apartments are all on the same floors, about 80% up the height of the building. The block we live on is one of the richer blocks and as such we have an elevator. We take the elevator to floors 23 and 24. As I'm about to step off, Fievel stops me. "Looking at it, it might not be fake."

"I know," I say. "I'm going to do it. It may cost a lot right now but-"

"The card said scholarships, didn't you read that?"

"Did it? Don't mock me for that, you know I don't like reading!" He laughs, like he always does. I stopped getting mad at him last year and he toned it down- mostly. He rides the elevator up with Flannery.

I walk three doors down into my apartment. I wave to my mom as she finishes pulling out dishes, to my sisters as they all walk out of their room, my brother as he walks out of my room with a pencil in tow, and my dad, who finishes stitching up a sock. "You're home late, but it's still good to see you," Dad says.

"I was having fun with my friends when I got this," after I say it I hold the card out to my Dad as he reads it over. "I didn't get all the information on the card, but Fievel told me that he was Shawn Baker's son."

"Baker is a common name you know," Mom says. "Go wake up your grandma and we'll have dinner now."

Grandma sleeps on the couch in the girl's room. The three of them complain about grandma snoring, but I heard her, and she's not that loud. We let her move in with us after grandpa died and have to keep a close track on her since she walks somewhat lost at times. She doesn't talk, she hasn't been talking since grandpa's death, but still knows how to hug.

I walk with her to the table and set up her platter. Dad pushes back his hat and pulls out the table, sitting next to mom, and also talking about the card in front of him. "Son, this is for the training academy," Dad says after we start eating.

"Oh cool! Does this mean that we don't have to pay?" I ask excitedly.

"Erm...well…" Mom starts.

"Your mom and I worked very hard to get you all to this place," dad says. "If we allow you to go to this place, understand that you could be throwing your life away."

"Wait, dad," Werner, my older brother says. "We still have to get tesserae. I know that isn't a good marker, but just in case...and Panem forbid… Denim gets reaped, this can give him a very big edge in the Hunger Games."

"It's not like I'm going to volunteer as soon as I turn 12. I'm not from District 4."

Mom and Dad exchange exchange two uneasy glances before sliding the card in front of me. "Tomorrow," Dad says. "After you go down for your tutoring, I will go with you to sign you up. I do not want you to so much as think that you will throw your life away because of this sense of false security. It's free, and it seems beneficial, but I will talk to this Vincent before we officially sign you up."

"Thanks dad!" I say that a bit too excitedly and knock over my drink. "Sorry."

 _14 years old_

My trainer card this year is vertical, instead of horizontal. When I signed up I was 4' 6" and weighed 67.5 pounds. Now, I'm at 5' 7" and weigh a strong 120 pounds. I'm not as tall as the top contenders of this year's Hunger Games, Marcel Shimmer, Tantalus Corpheos, Francia Bodacia, Clymer Werthred, and Xern Cowild. All of them are semi-careers and full careers.

Much of the opening ceremonies are played while I train with the others in our dozen-strong class. We're a strong District but we always seem to be hit or miss. Growth is slow, but it's coming. I'm looking up at the television screens while I sit on the butterfly press, Francia is dressed in a very revealing ribbon, and it's,,,definitely great to look at. "Hey!" A familiar annoying voice comes up to me. "Denim, you using that?"

"Just finished, Leath," I snarl. He and I don't get along, and today he has some underlings with him. "So which one will suck your dick?"

"Call me a faggot one more fucking time and I'll bash your head in," he snarls. I back off, not willing to battle with him now, there'll always be the wrestling mats.

I look down at my schedule on my training card. I'm required to do a new kind of survival skill today and this time around I decide to walk out into the small garden just outside the block of a training center. I see Gary's familiar blond hair and walk up to him, pouncing on him as he sorts out edible food. I've been here for four years and Gary is still a rookie so he's inclined to follow me, in spite of us being the same age.

"What's your schedule today?" he asks.

"Now I'm on the obstacle course, but I aced that yesterday, so I figured I could kill a bit of time."

"Sounds like a plan," he says. He finishes his session with a perfect 100% and joins me. The two of us walk through the garden en route to my next station when he grabs my shoulder and tells me to turn the other way.

"You really have to learn to stand up for yourself," I say sadly. I look down at my schedule and up at a clock on the garden wall. "I really have to go to the obstacle course, just do something easy you know? Anyways, I'll talk to you tomorrow ok?"

"See you then," he says with a confident laugh.

"Show that confidence against the bully you hate ok?"

"Gotcha."

 _16 years old_

The night is cold and the wind is biting but I still make the way down to the graveyard with my clothes tied tightly against my body. I hope he knows what I go through in order to talk to him, he's always the only one who understands. Curfew may be up, so I hold out my card, letting a streetlight illuminate my statistics of 5'11" and 135 pounds before running off.

Some peacekeepers come over but somehow they recognize me, so they turn away and open the gates to the graveyard. I stop first in front of an indistinguishable grave that does little to stand out besides the name. The small lantern in my hands provides enough light to perfectly shadow the name of "Gary Flannel". Located below his name are his date of birth, date of death, and a small quote from his favorite trainer.

"The Earth bears its fruits for our enjoyment."

I choke up, kneeling in front of his grave like I have been doing so for the last year and a half. He was my best friend and- I have to work for him. Damn the captol for-

 _The capitol gave you the opportunity to train so I don't want you to quit this. I know it's tough but you know Gary would want you keep going_. Grandma's words keep echoing in my head. She's old now, like 81, so her words are always more comforting with age.

I hug Gary's grave again before turning to the far end of the graveyard, where the gate to the tribtue graveyard is. Unlike Gary, I know exactly where this motherfucker's grave is. Row 26, column AA, the 'esteemed volunteer of the 94th Hunger Games' Leath Clipper. "I hope you're happy bitch," I say unhappily, kicking dirt over his grave. He was due to be kicked out of the academy when he made the choice to volunteer for the 94h Hunger Games, dying to the District 1 boy. If he hadn't killed Gary then he wouldn't have had to volunteer to escape punishment, but if he wasn't such a fucking jerk then none of this shit would happen!

"I knew I'd find you here," Shawn Baker says. I turn around, jumping, not expecting his voice and almost slamming the lantern into him. He dodges it. "It's past your curfew and you have your most intensive day yet tomorrow."

"Okay Mr. Baker," I say tiredly.

"Do you want me to carry you home? I haven't done that since Vincent grew up into his own and I don't want our future volutneer to have sore legs."

"Volunteer?"

"We're trying something different in two years, you'll be required to volunteer, only if you accept of course."

"If I don't accept will you still carry me to the dorms?"

He shrugs. "Then I accept."

 _18 years old_

A lot of Panem is on edge. If you weren't on edge, then you were confident, if not either you were still petrified as fuck. Just when a whole lot of us thought that Panem was going to move past the Hunger Games the new president promised that we wouldn't have any more pregnant women in the Hunger Games. And still they let 12 year olds in the Hunger Games.

There has been an overhaul in the escorts and now we have District 4's old escort. "Hello, District, Eight," she says with a stammer. "Such a, lovely, place, so let's, get started after this lengthy video." More emphasis this year is placed on the fact that it's teenagers who know that they have to die for their 'ancestor's sins'. "Now then, let's, get, started with the girls. Margelly Thayer."

The girl walks out of the 16 year old section. I saw her in the academy for several times. She's taller than the average girl to walk in the arena and I've seen her as one of the stronger sword fighters in the academy. Margelly politely smiles and steps back, but her anger is obvious. "Herbert Eismann."

The seventeen year ld looks like he's one of the preppy kids. I hate kids like him but I do have a duty to do- "I volunteer!" I shout. There's a wide berth around me. Volunteering has been becoming more common but we did go six years without a volunteer before Leath. "I, Denim Cupin, Volunteer as tribute. My story starts here."

I greet the escort with a firm shake and she swoons, complimenting my height and toned muscles. I reel at the thought but I have to do this. I look in the crowd and see grandma and dad, smiling proudly but worriedly. If it were just them I probably wouldn't be trying as hard. But I'm trying for Gary, for Cerrity, for my friends that I said goodbye to before I applied for the permanent residency.

My story as a District 8 boy ends here.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps here**

 **I can't stress how much I wanted to show off District 8 this chapter. There's so much you can do with District 8 that I wasn't sure if I was able to show it enough. Denim is the speaker through where much of District 8 is seen and I hope you liked him. He's not much but I like him, though I like all my victors, but I hope you all do too. So what do you all think of Denim? And yes, his name was initially intended to be for a girl, but I changed that a while back. Anywhoo tell me what you think, of course he comes out of the hunger games but I'm sorry we didn't get to that point, it just didn't fit the perspective currently.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **P.S. how willing would you guys be to see something of a Danganronpa fiction?**


	97. Rain Codens

_**Victor #97**_

 _ **Name: Rain Codens**_

 _ **Age during games: 16**_

 _ **District: 4**_

 _ **Games: 096**_

 _ **Death: 134, Indigo**_

"You all will have three hours to remove any effects you wish out of Ms. Codens' house. You all have a place to stay, do you not?" the government official witnessing the funeral says.

I stand on the balcony, looking for my wife's final boat as it sputters off to the sunset. The flame of her pyre is lit and barely pales in beauty of the sun. A tear wells to my eye as I feel my daughters right next to me. Both are the spitting image of their mother. "Understood," I choke out.

The government official leaves with his two flamboyant escorts to talk things over with Yana and Ramora, our two most recent victors of the 126th and the 129th Hunger Games. Ioline looks at me with a sense of vulnerability that she hasn't shown since surviving her own accident. "Dad…" she hasn't called me that either.

I take a deep breath like usual and rest my hands on her shoulder. She's not exactly short at 5'7" but I still stand five inches taller than her. "Uncle Hampton and Aunt Belfa will take care of us. Okay? Got that Ioline?"

"I understand," she whimpers. She breathes rapidly before her demeanor shifts. Her stance has shifted and her arms now remain crossed. "Old man if I wanted to know the rules then I'd ask olf Ramora," 'she' grumbles.

"Philo," I say with a swallow. In my talks with Lyme before her death, what few I did have, I learned that conditions like Philo usually arise after abusive circumstances but I know that Rain wasn't a bitch. "As I said to your other self, we'll be moving in with Hampton and Belfa."

"Those old farts?" he snorts.

"Philo, I am still your father, so you need to trust my decisions." Philo nods and his breathing slows down. Soon enough my daughter is back with tears in her eyes. "Ioline, Cavana, let's...let's look around." The three of us walk into our house, and the flood of memories of Rain being there to greet us whenever immediately comes back. I turn into the small closet, deciding to move as much as I can.

Rain has always been a bookkeeper and her books now line the interior of the closet. I take down her books on histry of shinking ships and drop it. It's a sad day, moving out as much of it as I can. About thirty minutes into the moving process I hear the sounds of a vehicle coming up to Victor's Village culdesac. My sister Belfa is at the wheel with her husband, Hampton. "How much stuff have you moved out?" Hampton asks impatiently.

"Please help. We ahve to make a run to the orphanage to…"

"Donate the books and recycle the dresse," Belfa continues. "Sandy, it'll be alright. We'll help the three of you finish up." She and Hampton walk into Rain's house, shuffling boxes away from the doorways, laying out dresses, and relaying them to a couple of Yana's family members.

I take the book on sinking ships into my hands when I'm stopped by Hampton. He's twon inches shorter than I but everytime he glances at me I can't help but feel like the smaller one. "What is it?" I say sternly, matching his normally gruff gesture.

"I know what Rain did," he says bluntly. I'm bout to turn away when he grabs me by the shirt. "She's **dead**! You can't hide it anymore. And She'll be forgiven wherever she is either."

"Rain didn't do anything," I deny. His harsh glare returns but in all my years interacting with Rain and her victors I can safely match up with his glare. "What do you have in mind though?"

"Let's talk outside." I have no choice but to follow him and leave the moving process to Ioline, Cavana, Belfa, and their helpers. He grabs the book on ships sinking, rifling past the Titanic to get to the Titron. "This ship."

"That ship."

"Don't play smart with me, I know what she did to this ship."

"I was on that ship and I didn't see her do anything!"

"I was on that ship and I saw her hijack it." I take an uneasy glance at the page. A timeline of the events during the sinking of the Titron is popping out at me with vivid imagery. Statistics on the side say that the 50 victims were as young as seven and as old as 78. None of the ship's three officers survived and one lifeboat was overturned, accounting for 13 of the civillian deaths. Of the six lifeboats, five were successfully launched. "Look at me." I see him with a look of fury in his eyes. "My sister was 10! I knew of you in the academy, hell I thoguht you and Rain were the best couple of the Arena. You were what? 18 and she was 16?I was 14. I quit the academy once the ship sank."

Silence.

"What else do I have to say?" he says, frustrated.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your sister but I couldn't have-"

"YOU WERE THERE! YOU COULD HAVE WRESTLED OUT HER PISTOL!"

I wince. He continues. "I've forgiven you both a long time ago, but that doesn't mean that I can control my fucking anger. Let's...let's just get this house cleared for the kids."

Robotically I complete the cleaning and help my family load the boxes of goods into the Jeep. We take a detour to the orphanage and lost loved one's support clinic to donate the items. I tell the four of them to go ahead and drop the items off as I begin to read the books, almost falling asleep. Once again I'm taken back to that day.

 _Rain and I have been dating for two years at that point. When she came back she was still the girl I loved but she seemed to be a bit more impulsive. Her laugh, her love, and her hope was still there but little of it remained. A cruise from the victors would have helped her out so much. I had no idea that Crockett paid for a ship to be made specifically for Rain. It was three hundred feet long with four decks of 100 suitable staterooms fit for a king's court. We invited several families from the village for a week long voyage to some of the outlying islands._

 _Rain and I slipped away from a ballroom gala that night, ready to consumate our love, when she brushed her hand against my hip. She found the six loaded pistol and fired a couple of shots in fear. Three bullets rang through the ship and she was about to discard the pistol when our pre make out session was interrupted with several of the officers. We ran away, being hormonal love-struck teenagers, but the officers cornered us into the bridge._

 _I failed to see her pistols. She fired it three more times, shooting them in the neck, shoulder, and chest. She threw the pistol into the controls of the ship. Almost immediately we ran aground. The two of us looked at each other and she cried. "It was an accident" she said. "I'm sorry."_

I look at the book again. Rain is a prominent figure in the book. Cited paragraph by paragraph are her efforts in launching the lifeboats with her boyfriend since the ships officers all died in the opening hours. It wasn't enough to save fifty of the 250 on the ship. Five children below pre-reaping age died, 24 children reaping aged died, 16 were adults aged 19 to 55 and five were older than fifty five.

 _ **She did it...**_ The thought dawns on me just as Ioline and Cavana make their way to the jeep. "Let's go?" Cavana asks.

"Let's go," I reply, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

* * *

 **Hey guys, Hopps Here**

 **I'm going to a case of writer's blog, no doubt in part due to this chapter and the interviews for Tremble. Not much else to say but this chapter was really short. I love district 4 but this time it winds up short so I'm sorry to gip you all of this.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	98. Curtis Mares

_**Victor #98**_

 _ **Name: Curtis Mares**_

 _ **Age during games: 16**_

 _ **District: 9**_

 _ **Games: 097**_

 _ **Death: Proportion Games**_

 _A grain Silo. Fitting for an arena for a district 9 girl. The year should have been perfected for her victory. She was a career, trained by headmistress Tymphus. She was promising. Then she was targeted by the two last two careers. The girl died in fifth place, forced into a chainsaw. The outliers got rid of the 17 year old District 1 boy shortly after. It was the insane girl from District 4 who won. She tore the intestines out of the District 12 boy and strangled him with it._

 _The capitol loved it. They love torture from the careers. They hate Torture from the outliers. Semi-careers are half exempt and half liable for torture. The official word on torture is that if the gamemakers throw up, you're done for._

I step back, looking at my document. Why do I write things like this? Why do I wait at the edge of my seat without thinking? What the hell am I on?

I should be lucky though. Given permission from Swift and Headmistress Tymphus to be a volunteer for the esteemed Hunger Games at only 16. Hey, if Swit came out at 13 I could come out, right? I just hope that my parents are watching intently. They'd be doing well if they stopped focusing on the statistics of grainery x and field y. Both of them have been working hard, as they told me. As they've always told me.

The room i'm in is as cold as always. No amount of blankets have ever helped my three...four nights in the Capitol. I'm not good at math. I've never been good at math. I always thought I'd be a grunt worker in the fields, chopping tesserae on my own, until the academy came along. What was it my mother told me? "X is equal to negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus four a c all over 2a"? That must be it. It was one of the few things that's stuck in my head. Useful for calculating crop growth and physics…

Bah.

I can't sleep. Not in the least because of my shit cake of an interview. My innermonologue still curses despite attempts from headmistress Tymphus to keep me from cursing. I sit up after almost falling asleep with my head in my hands and my seat in front of a chair. I have to get out. Not out of the Capitol, it's virtually impossible, but just out of the room for now. It humors me that the room I've been sleeping in is considered just one bedroom of an apartment.

Back home you could fit three dozen members of nine families in here.

I step out into the hallway and turn towards the elevator. I'm about to hit the button to go to the roof before I hear a light snicker. "Something wrong shortstuff?"

Alpha bitch number five and public enemy number four looks up with a cackle. "Just trying to clear my head."

The 6' 1" Galavee stands up and crosses her arms. "I lost an uncle to some hunger games. You have such an empty head I'm not sure that if you can ever clear it out of something more. If anything you should get out of the way, shrimp."

It's her favorite target, height. From what little she tried to make nice of me she's been on the other end of the teasing. Being over six feet as a girl isn't easy and I'll acknowledge that. Then again, neither is being under 5' 10" for a guy my age. "Let's just try to stay on good terms before-"

"Before one of us meets an untimely end?" she scoffs. "There's some ice cream in the freezer if you do want some. I've had a bit of the green thing, they call it pistachio."

"I'm just going to get some water if you aren't offended."

"But why would I be offended by that?"

"As if you aren't offended by any and everything."

"It's just because I'm a woman, isn't it?"

I have to let out a snort because of that. "No," I reply calmly. As I hold open the door to the freezer I throw a couple of choice words over my shoulder. "You're a stupid little prick who sees offense in anything due to being raised by hyper sensitive jailbirds who could only make their way in the world by shanking any and all prison guards."

"Fucking racist," she mutters.

"Don't think I missed that."

She drinks into her water. "You knwo what my favorite kill was during the Hunger Games?" I don't bother giving her the time of day. She turns on the television and I have to instinctively turn away. It's footage from hunger Games 85, the bloodbath. She laughs vicariously at the sound of slaughter. Afterwards she turns to Hunger Games 69, the Titus Files, and then to 82, 63, 74, 57, all the worst deaths played back to back. "Damn shame they couldn't get to that pregnant bitch a couple of years ago. Would have loved to see that poor fetus tormented."

"Shut up would you?"

"Oh what? Finally speaking up?" she half-snarls. "Did I hit a sore spot? I don't want you to let your anger out...lest you do something irrational."

I curl my lips and slam the fridge shut. "Don't talk about fetuses like that. They don't deserve death." I glare violently at her and she relents, but throws her head back. "You really are like that one asshole, wasn't he your uncle or something?" Silence. "So it's your turn to be stoic? Heh. He deserved every bit of torture that Crockett pushed on him."

I turn into a small room, pounding my fist into several piles of towels. I've never been good at managing my anger, and I've gpt a million and one enemies. Every sinlge tribute in the Hunger Games has a tragic past, it's what happens living in panem. Whether your childhood is signed off in the lumber yards, in the academies, in the mines, in the fields, or in the town, your childhood in Panem is very rarely happy.

All too soon my mind begins racing and I rush into my room, picking up a pen and pad of paper and ferociously flipping to another blank page. I begin to write down facts of the victors, all of Dsitrcit 9's victors, with their siblings, family, kills, loves, ages…. By the time I'm done the piece of paper is incomprehensible but I can see what I wrote. I tear the paper up. I have no idea when this habit came into place but it's been showing up and showing down repeatedly. I can't sleep and my discussion with Galavee did little to help matters.

The hovercraft is due to leave for the arena at 8 o'clock AM, arrive at the arena at 8:30 AM, and the games will begin at 9 AM tomorrow. The clock displays a time of 11:45 PM. I have eight hours and 15 minutes to get to sleep.

Restless nights are all too common for me. I've only counted an average of seven per year since I was four. My mind is too scattered to recall anything. My dad would always tell me that the trains of thought that go nowhere are rabbits that form a bridge that help connect thoughts together, and that's where brilliance comes from. Dammit. I really need to sleep and these little thoughts are not going to help matters one bit.

I last remember glancing at the clock when it hits 11:35 before falling asleep. **I begin to dream of my parents in our house, dreaming of the day when they both came back from the clinic, weeping. The grain around them begins to pile up and I try to ask them what's wrong. As they open their mouths mom's head fills with blood again and she runs off into the bathroom. Dad pulls me off to the side and says that he'll tell Jubilance later, and his teeth grows red, staining his tears. I find out my little brother died in the womb.**

 **The dream shifts into a talk I had with Swift systron. He's much taller than the pictures in the textbooks let us know and he's an attractive man. I know that my older sister Jubilance openly has a crush on him. I'm not that tall yet, so when I meet him at 15 years old, the entire room seems to be at least 2 heads taller than I am, Swift being no exception. He puts a hand on me and speaks in a distant voice. "Have you heard of the residency system?"**

" **Yes I have sir," I reply in a formal tone.**

" **It is for potential tributes. Now that we have approximately 350 trainees this year we are filling up in space. It's hard enough for many tributes to walk about daily and the capitol disallows us to have transportation vehicles. The residency system is open for 15 tributes who want to volunteer for the next year."**

" **If the offer is extended to me then I surely will accept."**

" **To the point Mr. Mares, and I was getting to that point. But thank you for your acceptance."**

 **The dream shifts again to the reaping day. I have to volunteer with Galavee. I volunteer for a fellow 16 year old who plans to volunteer in the next two years and Galavee is honored moreso for saving a teenage mother. I look at Galavee and instatnly realize that she's going to be y biggest threat in the arena. It may be the dream but she's giving off a smell of iron...a smell closely linked to blood.**

I wake up and look at the clock to see that it's 6:45 AM. The Hunger Games will begin at 9:00 today. This morning I decide to take a shower, stripping down and letting what could very well be my last hot water shower and probably what could be my last several minutes of peace. I don't have muc time but the water feels great just as it always has. I'm about to be lulled to sleep when I hear a knocking at the bathroom. "Yes?" I inquire.

"Our hovercraft is due to depart at a moment's notice, so please dress into your sleep wear. Whya re you even taking a shower anyway? The Capitol gives tributes a shower before they depart," Swift says distastefully. I step out of the shower, dying myself off, and dress myself again.

I find myself meeting with our escort, a flimsy oaf of a woman named Drizzeldorf, in the hallways as she clings tightly to Galavee. I greet her with a curt nod as we're guided to the elevator. With one last glance at our mentors I gulp but try my best not to show fear as I have been doing for the past week. With little else to do Drizzledorf pushes a button to the roof, where the hovercraft waits for us. I take my step on the ladder, get my tracker injected, and take a seat next to the District 1 girl, my main ally for the Hunger Games.

We fly off.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **It took a long time to get this chapter of ACAH out because I was suffering a lengthy assignment from my high school and this was the ebst I could get. Curtis is among the first casualties during the year of the proporiton games, which will be the last Hunger Games. As you've seen several others died during this time, but Curtis and another victor you'll be introduced to soon will be the first two actually assassinated during this time. I wanted to capture the multiple feelings during the night before the Hunger Games, so I hope that it really came off well.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	99. Penner Megal

_**Victor #99**_

 _ **Name: Penner Megal**_

 _ **Age during games: 17**_

 _ **District: 7**_

 _ **Games: 098**_

 _ **Death: Proportion Games, 160**_

 _District 7's training Facility, year of the 98th Hunger Games four months before the reaping_

Leisure Time: 1:00-4:00

"Is there anything more that I can get for you?" I look at Ms. Conif as she holds a tray of several pastries.

"Not for now," I reply as politely as I can. "Thanks again Ms. Conif. This food is going to be a fucking gold mine if you can market it."

"Oh please don't use that language, you're just like my son. He's a real son of a bitch. And yes, I am aware of what I said." She takes her tray with her into the main kitchen. I take a glance down at my pastries as I hear several familiar pairs of footsteps. I look up and see Shade's smiling face with his arm around his April.

"There's my favorite volunteer!" he shouts wildly. "According to my mom you're gonna be one of the highest contenders for this year. I can see you cracking all the kill records!" As I try to shush him in the cafeteria several heads turn. It's only when I splash some water over him that he decides to stop. "Spoilsport."

"I don't _Like_ being the center of attention, idiot!"

"And your insults are still as uncreative as the textbooks your mom makes."

With a disdainful sigh I pull out chairs for Shade and April. They give each other sweet kisses of nothing along their necks and I awkwardly look around. "Hey!" I call out as I see another one of our friends pass by. "Mac!"

She notices us and skips over, dragging along her twin brother as he hastily swipes a tray. "Word around the center is taht you're trying to volunteer," she says confidently.

"Ah Mac, look," her brother, Cotter, says. "You're making him blush."

"How long do you have until you have to get back on that regimen?" Mac asks, ignoring her brother.

"According to that broken up clock I should have been back on the routine yesterday but lucky for you losers I'm here for a while. I have 2 hours left in my rest period," I explain. "These legs aren't gonna get themselves sore."

"You could always fuck Cotter," Shade says. I cough wildly and slug him in the arm. "You aren't alive if you haven't been fucked by the same gender at least once." He and April then get into a little bit of an argument that Cotter, Mac, and I look at awkwardly. After ten minutes I have to hand Tac a towel to dry himself off. "Sorry abotu that guys, April's been getting real sensitive lately."

"Besides Penner I can easily beat any one of you up the next time you poke fun of me and my sexuality," Cotter fumes.

"Oh come on, you realize that at this point many victors aren't straight. There isn't anything wrong with that nor has there ever been," Mac says annoyed. "Attention whore."

"Attention MAN- whore."

"So Cotter's fragile masculinity aside," I cut in. "Who's up for going for a swm for the next 45 minutes?"

That notion seems to go over well with everyone and we clean up the table. "Come on Shortstuff, show that trainer bod," Shade jokes.

"You really are a jerk, you know?"

"I know, btu you're my best friend. I can't be beat in that department."

Conference with Victors: 4:00-4:30

After a lot of time hanging out with my friends I find myself called to the victor's department in the academy. The rule appears to be that if you're a victor then you have to be a worker in the academy. I turn into the shared conference room with several of the other prospective volunteers. There are only 2 girls in the running this year compared to the five guys. Including me, there's Maple Avensbury, Harvey Barker, Caleb Yew, Sequoia Gorroh, Keaton Orphios, and Jack Actabella.

The seven of us shuffle into several intricately made chairs along a polished glass and mahogany table as our living victors, Sullivan Annistar, Blight Kurkis, Johanna Mason, and Flora Mathias, take their seats on another side.

"Consider yourself lucky," Flora says. "This is the first time we're doing this and with the games in four months we really want to open the option of discussion to you guys on a weekly basis." She drags up a giant bag with files of all of us, all detailing our files, family, and details.

"Fat luck of that happening," Johanna Mason says. "Look, we're fucked. Flora is our only success with the opening of the academy but we've proved to be strong." She slides us all folders that have our names on it. "But you aren't here for us now, we want to know who you think the capitol would like as a victor. You know, I don't know why the fuck I'm here: the capitol hates me for being a supposed rebel."

"Ever vulgar Ms. Mason, ever vulgar," Sullivan says.

The seven of us begin looking over the files before, like always, Harvey speaks up. "It looks like Penner and Sequoia and Keaton are the oldest of us," he says. "And you guys are still only seventeen huh?"

"Yeah," Keaton speaks up. "I don't think I can volunteer though. I only signed up to prove to my parents that I can stick with this for a while, I already told them that I'm not in the running for a volunteer three months ago and they still beleive it."

"What you're saying, Harv," I speak up. "Is that you don't want to volunteer. Like at all?"

"Nope. I hate to say this but volunteering isn't for me. Maybe a future son of mine can do it but my parents are still holding grudges from that poor 5 girl's games."

"I have to agree," Maple says. "As the youngest of all of us, I want to call it quits befoe I get screwed. Besides, those birth control pills the capitol gave me? I'm throwing up because of them and I have an appointment with the doctor soon. I hope I'm not pregnant. My family can't afford that now."

"Tragic backstories aside," Caleb interrupts. "So Harvey is out, and from what I understand so is Maple. Sequoia, Keaton, Penner."

"I'll volunteer this year," I speak up. "It's really only me and my siblings. You guys have a lot more at stake if you guys die."

"I think we should only have one volunteer this year then," Sequoia speaks up. "I'm not ready and if you bring the victory then victory won't be necessary for a couple of years, right?"

A wave of silence falls over us as I'm determined to be this year's volunteer. I pull out my file and rifle through it, pulling out an official doctrine that requires all the victors most gung-ho about the academy to sign. I pull out a pen from the small container under the conference table and hand it over to Flora, who as of late is our only successful volunteer victor. "Are you positive about this?" she asks.

"Positive. It's a life that I'll sacrifice myself for." The older Sullivan is the other victor who signs off for me and I'm handed a new identification card that displays my new schedule. I give him a thank you nod and he smiles a gap toothed grin. I take a look at the clock. 4:30. Now it's time for the meeting to end and for a new training regimen to begin

Pre-Dinner Break: 4:30-4:45

When we walk out of the conference room we find several dozens of other trainees waiting outside. I hide my new identification as we join our respective cliques. It's easy to spot Cotter and the rest due to Cotter's impressive height and I maneuver through the crowd in order to catch up with them. "Penner!" Cotter calls out with a great smile. He drops his weights and runs to me. "What was that commotion all about?"

"It was just a conference you know. We determined the volunteer though. It's just going to be me this year though. I have a lot of training to get to but-"

He punches me hard in the shoulder and belts out a hearty laugh. "I knew you'd be the best contender! Hey guys!" he calls to the others. They turn and rush over. "Guess who our best friend is going to be in a couple of months? Mr. Top of the headlines, victor of the 98th Hunger Games!"

I shove his arm off of me as Shade strides up, smiling but with a sense of disillusionment in his eyes. "Shade?" I ask. I get little response. "Hey, I have a break for 15 minutes, we can head over to the rock climbing wall and talk if we need to." His eyes brighten up but they're still clearly broken. "Hey, Cotter, Mac, I'll see you guys in a couple of hours, as my new schedule permits."

They both chuckle and walk away, starting to swagger up to other friends.

Right now the training academy is only several big rooms, and the rock climbing area is just one big section of the room. He slumps against me as we go to the rock climbing area that curves inward to form something of a little alcove that we use for upside down climbing. Shade takes a deep breath to recover and faces me with a look of dead seriousness in his eyes. "April dumped me."

"I...I figured," I say dejectedly. "I know the two of you had something great going on but it's not your fault, I know you're thinking about that."

"I foget you're a mind reader Pen," he says with a dry laugh. "I thought I did everythign I could btu she said that she's not comfortable with me joking around about that subject. And hell I said the stupidest thing a week ago. I said that she was jealous of my friendship with you-"

"Come on, if she can't understand the difference between you joking and you being serious she shouldn't have gotten with you in the first place. Besides, it's not that serious."

"I thought I felt something with her."

"You guys were dating for four months. That's nothing! You realize that? Shade, you may call yourself an idiot but she's the nitwit in this situation! Shade, I'm being 100% honest here. April was a sulky judgemental ungrateful bitch. She doesn't realize what a fucking treasure you are and gave it up so she couldn't have the bad with the good."

"Well-"

I punch him in the jaw. "There are worse things in life and I know a punch always get you thinking. Get your mind off of that bullshit with April!"

He stiffens and prepares his body for a counterattack. "Fine," he relents. "It's going to take a while for me to recover from this thing you know?"

District 7 Training Facility, Axe Station

 _One week before the reaping, 9:50 PM_

I've never been good with the smaller axes but after this intensive trainign I feel more in control. I throw two of these tomahawks into a target some 15 yards away and they knock it over with a resounding thud. I pick up a heavier axe, always my forte, and begin a launch toward a target hanging from the ceiling. It lands in the target and stays there before the target falls. "So," I say, turning to my siblings. "That's what I've been up to."

"Wow big bro," 9 year old Ulrira says with a look of awe in her eyes.

"But that's just with axes. You work with them every other month," Sawa, my 13 year old brother says.

"Well yeah, it's not District 7 without our axes. I'm going to have to get my hands on at least one of them. I'm not a dumbass you know. There's also sickles and sycthes and sword like weapons," I scoff. "Look, it's getting late for the two of you. You guys will have to stay in my residency. I hope you guys brought your homework."

"Why do I have to do homework when I can train like you?" Sawa asks.

"Sawa," I say, my voice getting stern. "I'm doing this so you can do homework! I dont' want to raise my voice but I don't want you to think about volunteering. I have a smidgen of a chance that I'm trying to increase!"

"Sorry Pen," Sawa says sheepishly. "Come on Ulri. I'm getting tired and I think that Pen has some food for us."

I let out a discomforted sigh just as the two of them leave the training center. The targets reset without the axes and I make a turn to leave. "You're here late."

"Well it's my job Shade."He comes almost out of the shadows, smirking with his shirt off. "Aren't you cold?"

"You always warm my heart," he says quickly. "I just took a swim. So what kind of training are you gonna do now?"

I sigh tightly as I wrap some gauze around my hands and slip off my more restrictive shirt into a smaller undershirt. "Boxing. It helps out. Also I've got some anger to get rid of."

"Who threw the hissyfit this time?"

"Sawa."

"You've been training an awful lot lately, look at those guns," he says with a grin. "Come on, can we arm wrestle for a bit?"

"You should get to your residency, I'll be punching a while."

"Parents kicked me out, remember? Dad's always been a big piece of shit from when I was 12 years old. Now Mom's getting in on the fun. Besides, I want to see my best friend punch in action."

"You really aren't good at hiding your flirts."

"Can I help it?"

"You can, but I'm flattered either way. Besides. We tried that for a week. We're better as friends."

"With benefits?"

"Friends dumbass," I say, finding it hard to conceal a smile. "I'll take you up on some boxing if your fragile six pack can take it."

"You're on," he says confidently.

"By the way, if I win, I'll arrange for you to take a room with me for a while."

"Just for little old me?"

"I know your ego, and you aren't little in any regard. I swear. Don't hold back, i need experience going all out."

"YOu can count on that."

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps Here**

 **I'll have to tell you that this chapter went through so many changes in format. Next chapter ought to be somewhat easier for me to fill out, but I hope you like Penner nonetheless, teenage drama and all that being a non-issue.**

 **Now that the Quarter Quell is coming up I'll tell you that those chapters will be a lot more creative.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	100. Pristine Nixa

_**Victor 100:**_

 _ **Name: Pristine Nixa**_

 _ **Age During Games: 16**_

 _ **District: 1**_

 _ **Games: 099**_

 _ **Death: Katherine, 154**_

 **CAPITOL BI-WEEKLY!**

 _As always from your devoted staff at CBW, we hope to bring you the latest and greatest of hot Capitol scoops! Did you know that head Gamemaker Tawberius Junius is currently expecting with his wife of a loving five years? Or How about the fact that Interviewer Kentinus Cepheus was photographed taking his daughter to a District Two birthday Bash? And just now she's ready to talk about it?! And most critically, we may have a new president sooner than we think because President Flare plans to retire peacefully after the 102nd Hunger Games? You may wish to know all of this, but that's not our topic, because District 1 has just brought home the crown after a 15 year losing streak and looked fabulous while doing so!_

 _STay tuned for all about District 1 in this very very special edition magazines by District 1 fans for District 1 fans!_

 **You ranked your favorite District 1 Victors, here's where they laid on our recent polls**

 _ **1) Aubrianna Adrius**_ \- She has been in the spotlight ever since her victory, due to up until now being the last District 1 girl to take home the crown with 9 kills, a score of 10, and a mean club game to boot! Why Aubry stays in the limelight is because she's married! After a brief unhappy marriage after her games and several years of dating, she's finally tied the knot! Yes, the classically beautiful victor is married, and we have the hottest scoop about the wedding!

 _ **2) Pristine Nixa**_ \- Our most recent victor has already made her mark! She and Katniss Everdeen are the youngest people to have ever earned the elusive 11 and now she's made it with almost double what the wash up from District 12 has! STill she remains a social butterfly, here and in District 1. She's a personable woman who is the perfect package, which is what's necessary to get out of the Hunger Games

 _ **3) Dash Candela-**_ The crybaby from District 1 shoots up to third place! Despite- or because- of his tears, he's seen by many as an approachable victor, respectful, kind, and quiet! We've yet to have an unpleasant situation with him where he's angry rather than sad...With the exception of our poor rookie intern. Boy the 45 year old victor has still got it! Dash is an incredibly nice victor who offers to pay retributions regardless of the injuries he caused.

 _ **4) Leopold Mustang-**_ He may have been dead for 25 years now, but Leopold Mustang still remains the definition of a career in our eyes! His presence may only be graced by the screen repeats and the history books but his effects are still long held for the first volunteer.

 _ **5) Gloss Broach-**_ Devilishly sexy, manipulative, and a cold blooded killer, this still classically good looking blond fox manages to set a sight for sore eyes in hearts of men, women, and most importantly, fans of District 1 through the ever present years.

 _ **6) Cashmere Broach-**_ Just under her brother but not by much, Cashmere is only lower due to her little less apt social game, plus she's marketed only to Men, how boring is that from District One?

 _ **7) Adonis Platinum-**_ I'll tell you right now that one of my favorite treasures is one of Adonis Platinum's glasses, hand signed by him, and given to my mother. His small screen appearances still grace my nights, but lately he hasn't been seen, and unfortunately he's been forgotten

 _ **8) Radiance Mernal-**_ The first District One victor may have gotten the first 11 but with that out of the way the only thing people know about her is her devotion to her mother. Unfortunately some of the middle victors are forgotten, and much is the same case here.

 _ **9) Venice Sagrada-**_ After the fervor of the District 12 victory, we all rejoiced for Venice's taking home of the crown, but the fame of her victory fizzled out a decade after because of the double victories from the twins.

 _ **10) Dior Portchis-**_ This victor had the unfortunate luck of joining the elusive victory circle jsut as dear first president Hail died. Since then he's been forgotten for all but his bromance with his former arch nemesis.

 _ **11) Leif Vanas-**_ Even District 1 has to come from humble beginnings, but Leif was all but humble. He was a hardass even when married with two children, one of whom died during the 30's of Hunger Games. He's gone but not forgotten and well, he's alright.

 _ **12) Daphne Rudrus-**_ The difficulty with early District 1 victors is that they are just so unmemorable! Daphne was great but nary a soul is alive who remembers her. She will always hold a special place in our hearts but she's overshadowed by Radiance.

 _ **13) Desire Veritas-**_ Such a lovely name on such a forgettable victor. She is a great gal, but she's a bit hard to talk to. She makes the best cookies.

 _ **14) Whelsis Archus-**_ Whelsis is only this far down because he's not the ruthless killing machine with a heart we saw in the arena. He only remembers the bloodbath and he's a patriot but still, talking to someone about their games would have been nice, especially when they have abs like him.

 **IN CASE YOU'VE BEEN LIVING UNDER A ROCK!:**

After Whelsis' amazing victory and the disappointment we had when we learned he only remembered the bloodbath, District 1 entered a losing streak. Rising from the ashes was District 1's own Pristine Nixa. At 16 years old she stood at a mere 5'5" compared to the older, taller, stronger District 1 girls. District 1 provides the youngest average for tribute ages but that doesn't necessarily mean they're the worst performing. They boast the second highest average and most of their victors come out with 11's.

 _The Bloodbath:_

In spite of being underestimated, Pristine produced the single highest score! She explained in her interview the next night that it was in fact, her skills with a broadsword and accuracy with a knife that got the gamemakers hooked, and then it was her skills in navigating through a simulated forest, and it was her swiftness!

Very little could actually blame the District 4 girl for turning on her in the heat of the battle. In recent years we've seen this as a strategy. In the complexity of the bloodbath you meet up with your opponent and simply off them, and they never see what's coming! This strategy was first implemented in the 91st Hunger Games by Marcel Shimmer's ally Irene. My new personal favorite victor has employed this strategy twice to take out the Rattana of District 7 (23rd) and Elba of District 2 (19th).

 _The alliance:_

The alliance stood five strong after the bloodbath. Pristine was the face of the alliance but one can't forget her loyal second hand lapdog, the District 4 boy, the 16 year old Sulera. Also key players were the boy Dominic of District 2, the boy Nebulon of district 1, and the boy Chambray of District 8. Noted names missing from the traditional careers were Naesala of District 4, Pommeline of District 8, Arcana of District 7, and both Kinney and Laura of District 9.

It was on day 2 when the alliance began their kills. 18 tributes were in the arena that day. The dominant alliance of the careers found the District 6 boy struggling to climb a tree. Sulera's sharp aim knocked the boy 10 feet to the ground. With a sprained ankle he tried to run away as blood spilled from his shoulder. Dominic's impressive speed knocked the District 6 boy to the ground. The 6 boy got a lucky scrape along Dominic's eye but the 2 boy got angry, and the Dominic literally took an eye for an eye...along other things that made it a great torture scene!

Pristine and Sulera joined up for the mutual killing of the District 10 boy, who put enough of a strong fight to leave nasty bruises along Sulera's well proportioned frame. The bull rancher went down with a shuriken and knife in both his legs and Pristine held aloft her mighty spear and brought it down on the rancher's tanned skin for the second kill of the day. The third kill would come from the opposing alliance, with Kinney dropping his cleaver into the District 12 boy.

As it would be known in the capitol, the reverse harem quickly became the dominant force in the arena. On day 3 the smallest of the alliance, Chambray, made it into his big boy corduroys by killing off the strongest outlier threat, the District 11 boy with a skilled swing that took off his legs. The second kill of the day was the Laura, when she fell down a seemingly bottomless pit.

Day 4 saw Nebulon kill the helpless District 10 girl, hunched down in a ditch. Ever the craftsman, he tore off his shirt and tied her up, fatally stabbing her twice in her stomach.

For 2 days the tributes in the arena were relaxing and breathing, having survived a total of 11 deaths so far. The two alliances were gradually working to the north east quadrant. On day seven, they met.

 _The Battle of the Strongs_

On one side of the north east alliance Pristine and the four boys stood, camp not too far away. On the other side was a similar situation, Naesala, Pommeline, Arcana, and Kinney. The collapse of a mighty fir tree behind the dominant careers spilled the bag of worry and goaded the main careers into running out. It was Sulera, Pristine, Dominic, Nebulon, and finally Chambray who ran out in that order. On the other side the rush of a swarm of bat mutts yanked at Naesala's hair while they ran out. In the clearing the order emerged as Pommeline, Kinney, Arcana, and Naesala, who still had a bat in her hair.

For a cold minute the tributes looked at each other, before Chambray and Sulera led the charge. Sulera faced Pommeline while Chambray took it upon himself to pity-kill Naesala and her crummy bat friend. The others would soon follow.

And many would perish in the battle, one by Pristine, one by Chambray, one by Arcana, one by Kinney, one by Arcana, and two by Dominic. Pristine would run into the fray and throw a knife directly into Pommeline's head. In the thick of the chaos she left her blade behind and got a nasty cut along her back but fled relatively free. Chambray expertly dodged Naesala's crazy bat and decapitated the District 4 trainee, only to find himself on the receiving end of a massive axe thrown by Arcana, who promptly left.

This wasn't so much Prisitne's time to shine as it was Kinney, Sulera, and Dominic's time to shine. Sulera charged at the massive field hand, using strength to wrestle out the massive man's scythe but he got wounded in the process, allowing him to be easy pickings for the field hand. Dominic would then face Kinney in a massive battle. The two boys were evenly matched, and in an outcome similar to the face off between Cato and Thresh, Dominic overpowered the massively muscled Kinney.

 _The Aftermath, and a slow burn to victory_

Unfettered by the other battle, Pristine kept on the move, using a nifty sponsor present from us loyal fans to heal her. Dominic, Nebulon, Arcana, and most importantly Pristine were the last of the careers. The tributes were again given a rest period of 2 days.

In a harrowing battle with the surprisingly strong District 5 girl, Dominic received a massive cut on his arms that almost certainly crippled him for the next days, but threw the District 5 girl into a tree where she met her end.

A day later, elsewhere in the arena, Nebulon and Pristine would meet once again team up to face off against the District 6 girl and District 3 boy. In a game of cat and mouse, it seemed like the mice of Districts 3 and 6 would actually kill our favorite victor when the District 3 boy's trap launched successfully into Nebulon's unsuspecting head. But the kill would be on both their heads.

The two mice turned to face their elusive beast, but both were with paltry weapons compared to the elegant beauty. It was a simple song and dance for the by then experienced victor, who killed off the 2 underdogs on the same mighty blade through the heart.

 _The Finale_

The final three career tributes would be forced to the central cornucopia for the finale, no promises of a feast but a promise for one of the three of them to live. Pristine arrived in the cornucopia first, where she hid as the two alpha males of the arena faced off. The crippled Dominic weakened Arcana to the best of his extent but Arcana's shocking strength allowed him to overpower DOminic's mighty thighs and force him into the path of a collapsing tree.

Frustrated, Arcana turned around, finding our heroine well rested and itching for a fight. Arcana threw his shield, Pristine threw a javelin, both missed. They began a dance around a shrinking circle, dodging the body of their fallen comrade. Sword and ax got into striking distance.

Sword and ax flew away

Sword came back.

Sword landed in Arcana's chest.

She swung out, and landed a last blow in Arcana's stomach, spilling his guts. The trumpets blared not a minute too soon and Pristine became the legendary victor Panem deserved.

 **AND BACK TO THE PRESENT!**

At Ms. Adrius' wedding we saw many high profile guests from District 2, District 4, and even from the outlying District. Honorary maid of honor Stark Jarvis, her long time best friend, accompanied her down the aisle as his husband, hunky victor Hellion Darsi, and their adorable children Cammerie, Arthur, and Dott all watched. Just behind the two of them were District 4's Meditara and District 9's Swift, who seemed to be a little more closer than usual for this noted non-couple. Sitting next to Swift was the ever calm Curtis and his not quite boyfriend Pulitz. Many more names were filled in, but this is District 1 magazine, not all of panem's magazine! Aubrianna broke her glass in conjunction with long time fiance and now wife, Tiara Castelle, and they made the ceremonial walk down.

We caught up to noted victor Pristine Nixa as she applauded her mentor with much applause. This is our interview with her.

 **Us:** What a lovely and momentous occasion this is dear Ms. Nixa!

 **P:** It is.

 **Us:** It definitely is! So, I can't help but to notice that you're rocking a totally wicked emerald green dress!

 **P:** thanks. My mom gave it to me.

 **Us:** Are you still in contact with her?  
 **P:** No. Not at all. She died three years ago and I found this dress in an old storage facility. My dad is off choking himself in some floozy bar so I can't hear him tell me how fake proud of me he is

 **Us:** Unfortunate for real! I must say you seem to be in good company with Mr. Canus Orion here! Though I would say that him in a dress isn't that great for photos.

 **P:** Good thing she [sic] doesn't like photos. She's [sic] comfortable in a dress and that's about all I'll say

Unfortunately our interview ended there when Canus hastily walked away, with Pristine chasing after him. And yes we are aware that Pristine called Canus Orion a woman! The audacity! If she weren't so darn lovable then that would have been awkward!

Based off of our sources, the ever blunt Pristine is open for dating both guys and girls! She is the hottest commodity since Whelsis! Stay tuned for the next issue where we rank her arena among all the other Multi-terrain arenas, because Pristine is just worth it!

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **This chapter honestly was pretty fun to write. I hope you all like it. Honestly there isn't much to say other than i haven't been planning the 100th hunger games as well as I should. I hope you guys all enjoyed it. It's about 3:00 where I am from so it's pretty early in the morning. Pristine slipped under the radar I'd say. After ending district 1's losing streak, Pristine helps District 1 be more consistent again, and the longest career drought is not replicated.**

 **Next time it's the quell and I'll try my best to plan that out**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


	101. Fourth Quarter Quell part 1

_**The Fourth Quarter Quell:**_

 _ **Victor #101;**_

 _ **Name: Lillian Perad**_

 _ **District: 12**_

 _ **Age During Hunger Games: 16**_

 _ **Games: 4th Quarter Quell**_

 _ **Death: Proportion Games, 160**_

 _ **To recognize the fact that the Capitol can be merciful, two tributes are guaranteed survival regardless of allegiance, District, or age**_

 **Day One:**

24th-Zune Malletine

Wiress looks at her little tribute as she and the 23 others rise up from the pedestal. The viewing arena for this year is a staggered stadium style, and the mentoring mentors view from an overhead platform. Widowed just 2 years ago, she can't help but to think that little Zune looks like a girl from one of Routa's drawings.

For the brief 60 seconds the mentors and tributes look around the arena. It's an over-sized living room and the cornucopia is a giant toy on carpet with frays that range in size from the height of the smallest tribute to more than double the height of the tallest tribute. All Quarter quells have big arenas, big for the action. Wiress told Zune to look for Jack as soon as possible but the tributes are all spaced too far apart. They look to be in a giant studio apartment and the floor seems to be hardwood.

The gong rings and she bolts for the cornucopia. Wiress twitches. Almost all of her tributes have run to the cornucopia. It worked twice, they say, it'll work again, they say.

It doesn't work this time. The little 12 year old bumps into the beast from District 2. Wiress knows that Androcles is actually pretty smart but little of that shows as his muscles ripple and drag Zune to the nearest pile of weapons. He grabs a sword and jams it into her head.

Wiress begins shaking more. She's brought home 2 victors but every death makes it harder and harder for her to stop shaking. The older woman runs down to the stadium seats and lies down next to her two victors. She's successful.

But Zune isn't. And if Zune isn't successful then she isn't.

23rd- Colina Kegs

Is it bad that Jackie knew she had a lost cause? The upstart 15 year old who volunteered, citing Finnick as her inspiration, against the wishes of Jackie and Swift alike? Jackie holds her diary close to her heart and mutters a formal mantra from one of her father's favorite books from history. "Our father who art in heaven…"

The main map shows that 20 of the main tributes are running to the cornucopia some 100 meters in front of them. "Hallowed be thy name."

Colina's always been good with a scythe and a sword and a scabbard but she has terrible judgement and terrible stealth. She's a fast runner who made a bully lose eyesight several years ago when he poked fun of her sister's miscarriage.

She has terrible judgement.

"And forgive those who trespass against us."

Jackie looks with an intense glare as Jackie charges fifty feet in one direction to the District 2 girl, wisely avoiding the District 1 boy who has just tripped. Allies are lifelines in this game. Her hands clasp on her chest as Colina lets out a yell and the 2 girl turns around to see Colina and her whip at the ready.

It's a pitiful kill. Poor girl didn't see the knife coming.

Jackie packs up finishing her mantra on her way out. Scholars have determined it to be of an old religion, it should be illegal.

"But deliver us from evil."

Jackie doesn't care. She takes the stairs down, joins Wiress and the other victors as the games play around. She sits primly, thinking of the sins, and praying for Colina's safe arrival in heaven.

22nd-Whertz Abbriton

He knows this kid. Hellion looks at the redheaded boy and breathes in, knuckles already turning white. Stark's told him that Whertz has a tendency to wander back and forth between subjects, a ditherter, something that will never help in the arena, but Hellion's sure that he's shouted that dithering out of Whertz' system.

All those lessons don't help. On the fringes of the cornucopia battlefield Whertz moved back, and forth, and left, and right, unsure of whether to charge or not. Hellion was _**this**_ close to tearing his hair out when Whertz finally made the choice to run to the cornucopia.

He passes several battles going on, some tributes tripped, some tributes injured, and many others preoccupied with their own supplies. Whertz flits back and forth between a large backpack and a small backpack atop a small weapon. It's infuriating to watch and Hellion wishes he had Stark's teaching skill.

Hellion tries to breathe, picturing Stark at home: Picturing Cammerie as she practices that track thing, Arthur as he plays with his friends, and Dott as she gets knitting; he pictures his own life and breathes.

He opens his eyes to see his tribute on the floor, pinned to the ground with a sword through his stomach. He sighs and slams his fist on the nearest trinket, a kitschy plush cupholder from one of his customers. He places a call down to the stadium. "Whelsis?"

"Yep?" the voice on the other line replies.

"I...I need to work out...I could use...I could use a punching bag...or a spotter huh?"

"On it," Whelsis says, all too cheerfully. Working out helps out Hellion. He'll practice the routine that he promised Whertz would go through when he comes out of the games, to get a strong body like him and his husband.

He feels so much like a failure and when he punches bags, their limits are less defined so he doesn't have to worry.

21st- Douglas Pike

It's his first mentoring job and he has to take care of a 12 year old. Penner puts his head in his hands and tries to will his boy to run away from the cornucopia. Penner feels a connection with the boy, something old Blight warned him against for his first job but dammit he just can't help it. He doesn't want to go home to his siblings and confess that he failed to bring back poor Douglas.

His hand is on the phone preemptively. Little Douglas' favorite colors are red and blue and green. He's tall for his age and has a sense of humor best fit for immature 14 year olds. His fanbase is growing in the Capitol.

Penner idly flips the dice in his hands, it's an odd toy given to him, but he's never been able to sit still because of just what's happened in his arena. He curls his lips and runs a hand through his short curly hair.

"Doesn't look too good," he mutters to himself.

It isn't. Douglas runs to the heart of the cornucopia like every brazen 12 year old from a much lower District does. He tries to run to District 4 against Penner's instructions. The two from four are a crazy sibling duo with equally insane parents. They don't recognize the District 7 boy is supposed to be a healing ally through the Hunger Games.

They recognize him as a threat.

Two swords cut through Douglas' chest and a third dagger lands in his skull. It's testament to his resilience when he crawls several feet to the fighting figure of Androcles. Androcles fends off an ambushing foe before turning to the mangled soul in front of him. With pity in hs eyes he slams his club on him, instantly.

20th- Trophy Havana Halidom

She was groomed to be great, she will be great, and she never won't be great.

"Fat chance of that happening," Pristine grumbles to herself. Barely a year after her hunger games and she's watching an overconfident alpha bitch through the Games. Not a single word got through her.

" _We'll get through with friendship and love. That's what I named my two blades teehee,"_ Trophy said during her interview night. Pristine is confident in that Friendship and Love will wind up in both of Trophy's noticeable assets.

"Was I this bad when I trained?" she grumbles to herself.

It's not often a dumb blond gets into the arena but it happens about once every seven years, and those seven years are so fucking noticeable and they become the mockery. She winces as Trophy leans over to grab her designated boy-toy ally from District 4 but he pushes her off and she falls to her ass flat.

Pristine keeps looking as Trophy takes almost forever to get herself up, almost forever and a half to pick a weapon, and almost forever and three quarters to turn around. By the time that she's done the District 8 boy she so taunted during training meets her.

She's not as ready as she thinks she is when the boy manages to bash her head in with a club.

She was an idiot, but she has people rooting for her. She was an idiot but she was a contagious kind of niceness. She was an idiot but goddamnit idiots don't survive the Hunger Games.

Pristine is pulled from the mentoring floor by her own mentor, asking wildly just what she did wrong, how did things get so bad, how did it end up like that. She was groomed to be perfect but wound up anything but that.

19th-Candice Radlon

District 11 won the quarter quell before this one and many of District 11's fanbase in the Capitol wanted them to win the next one. Head of the District 11 fan-club of the capitol mentioned that it would have been amazing if District 11 got an academy like half of the districts. Donnabella knows that it's hopeless.

She keeps fighting, she has to be a good role model to young Orkeon, who has survived his first 2 reapings, older Juniper, who has survived three reapings, the older Hyacinta of a great 16 years, and the eldest, Acorn, of 19 years. Donnabella is a quell survivor herself, the only one alive by this point.

But Candice is of different ilk. She didn't work as hard as others, she's 18 years old but stands at a height comparable to most 12 year olds, she's pale as fuck, and always has a sniffle when she walks around the District. There's a guaranteed alliance between her and Mick but that's about it. It takes 2 to survive this year and Donna is fighting…

But Candice isn't. The girl, the rich girl born to paler parents, and stupid hope, runs to the mouth of the cornucopia. In front of her is the girl from District 12. Candice is fearful, like always, and she runs away into the arms of the boy from District 1.

Choking's one of the worst kills and there is always one in the Hunger games who will die to it. Donna's seen her tributes die a bunch to it. The poor girl.

She closes her eyes and begins to call a number. "Hey, I'm sorry to announce that Candice has 'll...you'll get the full refund." They tell her to keep the money for the next year. They'll keep it until they bring home the crown again.

18th-Panne Wilder

Panen is a good girl. She's a bit on the young side but Cecelia says time and time again that she carries a charm much like their first victor, the very first 15 year old victor of the Hunger Games. She's crafty and flexible and loves to flash a smile. She fiddles with her hair for the first 10 couple of seconds of the bloodbath even as she runs to grab a piece of string right in front of her.

Cecelia told her to run. It's the advice she gave the last quarter quell. She's grateful that...she's grateful that...she's grateful that she didn't take the...the...the easy route again. Panne runs off, quickly and nimbly, like the fifteen year old.

She nudges shoulders with the District 2 girl, and it's lucky. The District 2 girl is her ally for the early stages of the Hunger Games. The two nod and split off. Panne is going to make it out of the bloodbath and she's going to survive again. She's not going to die in the three hundred yards of torture.

Then she bumps into the District 12 girl and the District 6 boy. She lands on top of the Districit 12 girl and when she tries to get up she accidentally steps on the girl's hand. The girl lets out a howl and kicks her off.

The 6 boy is short, scrappy, and stronger than he looks. He rushes forward with a sword and slams down on Panne's neck.

Cecelia thinks about the first night after training, when Panne told her how cute the District 6 boy was, how nice he seemed. She told her to steer away. To no fault of Panne's own, she failed to follow orders. The blame always falls to the mentors. AT least...at least Cecelia thinks so.

17th-Ionia Fluorite

The year was supposed to be scheduled for the careers to win. It's been a little over a decade since District 2 has started training prospective tributes to kill. It was Merit's suggestion, it would help tributes choke up less when killing. So far it's been a success but there are cracks that fall through.

She hates to admit it but Ionia is one of them. She's one of the most emotional girls District 2 let through. And the capitol loves her for it. The capitol loves it when she bends over and gives a warm soliloquy about how her victims put up a noble fight. They love it as tears drip her perfectly smooth skin and fall on her ample bosom.

The capitol may be artists but they show their perversion just as often as they do their art.

Ionia flies through the opening bloodbath, killing off the District 9 girl and on the prowl for more weapons. She chases the District 3 boy into the cornucopia and he tries to deflect her advances with crate and bag and bag and weapon and weapon and shoe. She gets hit with a left sneaker and throws it back at the boy.

She raises her sword to make the kill when Ionia suddenly feels a draft of wind flowing through her neck. It's the last thing she feels before she turns around and finds the boy from District 9 with his hands over his mouth.

Merit turns to Curtis as he makes a small grin. "He's a crafty one, but I think it was an accident."

"Sure," Merit snarks. "Accident." The camera pulls up to a small smirk the 9 boy has as he forces the 3 boy to run. She remembers a warning that came from District 1 about the 9 boy, and it seems like it became relevant too late.

16th- Edsel Frankine

For the first time in a long while, Levora wasn't alone. For forty-seven years as a victor, the last 13 truly alone, she lived without anyone who could ever relate to her plight. Yes there's Charlotte from District 2 but that's nothing major. She likes Charlotte really but it would be nice that she has someone at home.

Edith, as his name was, was picked at the reaping. They have similar pasts, small boys trying to find their way in the world and being exiled by their parents. It's a bit selfish of Levora but District 6 really gave him hope during the Games. It was in spite of the capitol hecklers.

Times are changing though. The official boy, Roryd, has a sister who was born a brother, and he's fighting for her. Roryd understands Edsel and Levora, but not a big extent. It's a bit selfish of Levora but he'd rather have Edsel survive rather than Roryd.

He promises to protect Edsel to the best of his ability.

After running in the carpet for a bit two members of Edsel's alliance, Roryd and Lillian, run back to the bloodbath. It would be suicide but there are four members of their group left unaccounted for. Edsel sees Lillian's dusty blond hair and runs to it, a splash of color that isn't red nor one of the million colors of black strewn about the floor.

Edsel's always had bad vision. He rushes forward without seeing the boy from 1 charge at him with two swords and a massive bag on his back. One lands in his chest and the other lands in his leg. He bleeds out.

Levora cries as he pleads for Roryd and Lillian to run out. They do. He has to keep himself composed for Roryd's Sake.

15th- Keaton Cooper

The bloodbath is beginning to die down and other people are cutting their losses. Everyone else is either too far away for the careers to get or the careers are already congregated at the cornucopia. Androcles calls the remaining careers forward.

Denim watches as his boy, one of the bulky boys of the year, moves forward with his bags on his back. District 8 grows tall but it's honestly kind of rare for District 8 boys to get so bulky. He checks over the ten bodies with a cursory glance and fails to notice that one of them has moved.

He calls out to Androcles that the cannons should fire soon when he feels a muscled forearm wrap around his neck. He flips the assailant forward and tries to follow up, but the 9 boy rolls out of the way and capitalizes on his opponent's mistake. Denim has been screaming at some of the heads to put in some more hand to hand combat but they've always brushed him off.

Now they have a reason to. The stocky delivery boy from 8 is struggling in his battle to stay alive but he puts up a good fight against the District 9 boy. Bruise after bruise, bleeding from opened wounds, the two boys are wrestling downward and fighting as hard as they can. The winner of the brawl stands up over his comrade from District 8.

Denim appreciates the small salute the 9 boy makes. He begins to hyperventilate. It's coming back, the two girls he wrestled to the ground and the scars on his shoulders he got from their attempts to fight back, and those were 15 year old girls. The 9 boy won against a guy just as big and as strong as he was.

He hyperventilates. He hyperventilates. He calms down and opens a screen on his monitor while calling up Curtis. "I'll donate enouh for one gift today, you name it," he says when his breath calms down.

"Bro, thank you so much," Curtis says with a smile. "I'm still sorry for what-"

"I really thought I had someone to best the others this year. Keaton was a good kid." Curtis punches his shoulder affectionately. Denim holds back, but he punches just hard enough to surely leave a bruise on his best friend.

 **Bloodbath End:**

Ten cannons ring out, two traditional careers, four semi-careers, and four other tributes. Alliances are springing up around the arena just after the bloodbath. The news are ablaze with who killed who and what just happened and what the arena is.

It wasn't clear at first sight but the living room isn't the only room the tributes have to navigate. By and large it's one of the largest arenas, quarter quell or no, and the gamemakers have revealed that earthquakes will occasionally wrack separate parts of the arena. There are no human mutts this time around. There are rogue robots and giant rats and mice and mites all around. The house seems to be miles and miles on end.

It's probably going to be one of the longer hunger games. The capitol worries about pacing, especially since two tributes are going to be alive.

Currently Alive:

Prestige Calloway, 17 years old, District One Male, kills; D6F and D11F

Androcles Cooper, 18 years old, District Two Male, kills; D3F and D7M

Jack Artega, 16 years old, District Three Male, kills; N/A

Heron Kyuiper, 16 years old, District Four Male, kills; Whertz

Swan Kyuiper, 18 years old, District Four Female, kills; N/A

Aeria Mite, 16 years old, District Five Female, kills; N/A

Roryd Sakon, 14 years old, District Six Male, kills; D8F

Abigail Barker, 18 years old, District Seven Female, kills; N/A

Eustace Stiver, 17 years old, District Nine Male, kills; D2F and D8M

Rankyn Ruffwild, 15 years old, District Ten Male, kills; N/A

Marcela Hanson, 18 years old, District Ten Female, kills; N/A

Mick Howard, 16 years old, District Eleven Male, kills; N/A

Harmon Everlark, 14 years old, District Twelve Male, kills; N/A

Lillian Perad, 15 years old, District Twelve Female, kills; N/A

 **Day Two:**

The career alliance of Districts One, Two, and Four is already beginning to fracture. They can't last with just four members and the unstable Swan knows that. She launches an attack to Androcles as soon as he wakes up. He pins her down and tells her brother to take care of her, giving them ten minutes to vacate the premises. Prestige looks on stoically as the two of them stumble across the massive carpet. Androcles shakes hands with Prestige, and they agree to stick together for a bit.

Roryd and Lillian spend the day walking to a broom closet. They find that there is not much in there besides a giant vacuum cleaner and rat poison. They decide to sleep on the Vacuum, not realizing that it has a schedule and a mind of its own.

Harmon and Rankyn find each other, collapsing in tears with a long hug. It's there they decide to stake it out for the length of time. There's nothing sure in the arena but they have each other, and their parents are going to give them that.

Abigail and Eustace have a brief staredown when they encounter each other in the kitchen sink. They back off after exchanging information. Abigail visibly shudders once Eustace turns the other way.

Aeria catches Jack trying to steal of her bag. She breaks his forearm in self defense but leaves him to fend for the elements. Because of her skill, she gets a giant bandage and a pair of small scissors wrapped in a small face blanket. Jack doesn't get any sponsors yet.

Marcela makes a little camp for herself and stays put.

Mick is always on the move. After just an hour of resting he's moved to the back bathroom of the house with a guaranteed water source to refill his water bottles, but Chaff grips his head in pain. Not just from the alcohol withdrawl, but the fact that Mick moves away from a guarantee.

The mentors are interviewed when they get off of work, everyone says their favorite tributes to win are their own tributes. Most of them say their favorite to win is either Harmon, Abigail, or Androcles.

 **Day Three:**

14th- Mick Howard

Chaff's hand curls around the phone like he usually did with a bottle or mug at the bar. He hasn't been in four years and he's not going back. Haymitch would want that. They couldn't work things out but still, he would want to honor Haymitch's memory.

And if he can't do it by bringing a kid home like Haymitch did he would do it by turning away from the bottle like the two of them always planned to.

He's not giving up. No. He's not going to givve up on young Mick Howard.

Mick moves from the bathroom into the hallway and duks under a little side table. The house is empty save for a patrolling giant rat. It's gone before Mick can tremble and make an effort to avoid the giant rat at all costs. He hides behind a leg for the table, like his 'immature' siblings would hide when they played hide and seek.

He doesn't hide very well. From behind Prestige locks the son of grape harvesters in a chokehold before Androcles steps out, ready with a knife. Prestige drops the poor boyonto the hardwood of the floor and he can barely catch his breath before a heavy boot lands on his chest.

Prestige stands with a smirk as Androcles drives his knife directly into Mick's throat. There's nothing more for Androcles to do and he gives Prestige a good natured shove. Prestige high fives him back and they walk off. It takes fifty minutes for Mick's cannon to fire.

Chaff pulls up his book and begins to read. He has an automated reply on his phone for now. He gets through anotehr chapter of the latest Panem Great, Apprenticeship Calling, and closes the book with a bookmark in the shape of a horse.

He promised to take Mick horseback riding, he wouldn't have forgotten it.

 **Day 3 end:**

The Hunger Games is progressing slowly but the capitol likes it, they get to see their favorite bonds and how they unite. Only one cannon rings through the day. For most in the arena it's a rest day, but for Mick's family back home they lament his loss.

Currently Alive:

Prestige Calloway, 17 years old, District One Male, kills; D6F and D11F

Androcles Cooper, 18 years old, District Two Male, kills; D3F, D7M, and D11M

Jack Artega, 16 years old, District Three Male, kills; N/A

Heron Kyuiper, 16 years old, District Four Male, kills; Whertz

Swan Kyuiper, 18 years old, District Four Female, kills; N/A

Aeria Mite, 16 years old, District Five Female, kills; N/A

Roryd Sakon, 14 years old, District Six Male, kills; D8F

Abigail Barker, 18 years old, District Seven Female, kills; N/A

Eustace Stiver, 17 years old, District Nine Male, kills; D2F and D8M

Rankyn Ruffwild, 15 years old, District Ten Male, kills; N/A

Marcela Hanson, 18 years old, District Ten Female, kills; N/A

Harmon Everlark, 14 years old, District Twelve Male, kills; N/A

Lillian Perad, 15 years old, District Twelve Female, kills; N/A

 **Day 4:**

Another rest day and the capitol is getting bored. They don't want to wait for the next death but the gamemakers are promising another showdown quickly. When Day 5 comes along they have it, but not from the likely source.

 **Day 5:**

13th- Jack Artega

Jake's coffee is running low when the clock strikes 12 o'clock midnight in the arena. That means it's 12 o'clock midnight capitol time. He needs more caffeine in his system and he's promised to his wife that he won't pull that bullshit with the IV cords any time soon.

He decides to give it an hour. At least until Jack finds a place to sleep in this giant arena. It's ironic really. Hehe...it's funny.

Jack is stuck in the bedroom. It's a massive bedroom. It's a massive and messy bedroom and he finds shelter in one of the toy blocks over there. But he doesn't sleep. Jack hears something and he moves towards it. Sound usually means supplies in the Hunger Games, it's what Jake taught Jack a while ago. How long ago was that?

It really doesn't matter. Jake wants his charge to get out of the arena, no questions asked, he's yet to bring home a victor unlike his mentor, Wiress, and he thinks that District 3 is crafty enough to win such a unique quarter quell. That was the plan, for JAck and Zune to make it to the end.

That plan failed, and it looks like Jack is getting desparate. He hears more of a commotion and moves to the source of the noise. He walks forward and finds a camp, two inhabitants lying prone on the ground. He makes a move to the bag next to one of them.

Jake lets out a scream that wakes up the mentors next to him. Jack is pushed into the fire and is burned alive by that crafty District 12 girl. She was pretending to sleep. But if you ask Katniss she was just about to fall asleep and Lillian got lucky.

Lillian moves to her ally and snuggles next to him for the night. It was already stressful and something may in fact be building up between the two of them. Jack;s cannon fires ten minutes later, when Lillian and Roryd are closer to each other, huddled up on the cold floor.

 **Day 5 End:**

Currently Alive:

Prestige Calloway, 17 years old, District One Male, kills; D6F and D11F

Androcles Cooper, 18 years old, District Two Male, kills; D3F, D7M, and D11M

Heron Kyuiper, 16 years old, District Four Male, kills; Whertz

Swan Kyuiper, 18 years old, District Four Female, kills; N/A

Aeria Mite, 16 years old, District Five Female, kills; N/A

Roryd Sakon, 14 years old, District Six Male, kills; D8F

Abigail Barker, 18 years old, District Seven Female, kills; N/A

Eustace Stiver, 17 years old, District Nine Male, kills; D2F and D8M

Rankyn Ruffwild, 15 years old, District Ten Male, kills; N/A

Marcela Hanson, 18 years old, District Ten Female, kills; N/A

Harmon Everlark, 14 years old, District Twelve Male, kills; N/A

Lillian Perad, 15 years old, District Twelve Female, kills; D3M

 **Day 6:**

It's a surprising day when the last person to make a kill is the District 12 girl. But Katniss has proved lucky, so many in the capitol are thinking that it could be Lillian who makes it through again. She's focused on her son, Harmon Everlark, her youngest. He's cozied up with the District 10 boy, getting much closer than Katniss and Peeta ever...ever were.

Prestige and Androcles have reduced their support to watchin them practice sparring over and over. Sure it's an enticing battle but there is only so much two hot guys can do in the arena without droping to do the horizontal tango.

Heron and Swan have finished a swim in the bathtub, bathing and getting each other clean for the fight to continue.

Aeria has maintained a low profile so far. She has made a small map of the arena on the floor, and has determined that the massive house is just one story, functions more like a studio apartment, and has mapped out a whole lot of the floor plan.

Abigail remains one of the four singletons in the arena. She has had a close call with a live wire and through her flexibility she has survived it.

Marcela gets picked up by a rat. She was gripped by the legs and transported to a giant box. She remains in there for hours, and she goes a bit dehydrated. Nothing can get to her and nothing can get out.

 **Day 7:**

Marcela is finally able to escape her prison when the rat chews through the box. She gets another gnaw on her arm and almost suffers from it. She fends off teh rat and falls down three feet, already maiming her injured leg. Yet she's able to fend off the injury. Experts say that with her medical supplies that she can prolong the inevitable for a couple of years.

Prestige and Androcles have suffered another day of fruitless prowl. Their mentors are trying to collaborate but there are only so many times you can has the strong bold, hunky warriors from teh careers.

Abigail rests for the entire day. A lot of critics consider this a great move. Abigail looks at her arms and runs a blade through them, like she did back home.

Aeria is quiet. She's moving through the closet and not making a noise in any regard at all.

While her brother naps Swan plants a kiss on his lips. When he's sleeping he can't fight off. The capitol relates to her so much. Her mentors are aghast.

Harmon and Rankyn find a romantic scene in a giant chocolate box, deciding to break off a piece of chocolate and sharing it with each other. IT's cute.

They're interrupted by Roryd and Lillian. They don't fight. It's a quiet scene. Lillian sneaks a kiss on Roryd's cheek. Roryd returns the favor when they leave the chocolate box.

 **Day 8:**

12th- Rankyn Ruffwild

Two moms are in the arena monitoring their sons. The conversation was awkward at first but if the romance angle persists then both can make it. Fione was much more hesitant when Katniss Everdeen approached her. One of the Everlark children is Rankyn's first, and what will seem to be his only boyfriend.

Fione had a harder time accepting it than she cared to admit. There were a lot of fights in the house but she always had accepted her son. He wakes up in in Harmon's sleeping bag with weary eyes and curls up with him for a while longer. Harmon wakes up and kisses the shorter boy on his head, before waking up and getting to dismantling camp.

After 8 days they still haven't quite learned to keep their voices down. Katniss sends down a parachute of cotton balls and little bits of jerky. They're splitting up the jerky when they hear a clank off in the distance. Rankyn has always been a little bit more of the scared one, so he makes a loud noise as he walks to Harmon.

They wrap arms around each other as they back away from the noise. It doesn't take long for the sibling pair from District 4 to catch up to them. They draw their weapons as the insane sister pounces on the smaller of the two.

Rankyn fights, scratches and claws, trying to get any foothold possible, but you can't combat insanity at its worst. She bites him, bites him in the Adam's apple, and he coughs up blood. In a fit of strength Harmon has pushed her brother into the ground and he wrestles her off of him. He's visibly struggling when he tries to carry Rankyn in his hands but he's not going to leave him with a career, much less a cannibal.

They are out of sight of the two insane siblings when Harmon finally rests. Rankyn's far more damaged than initially thought. A strained smile goes on the smaller boy as he waves off his first, and last boyfriend. He stays. Harmon stays long enough to feel the last of his death tremble. The first cannon fires.

It's hard for Fione to remain composed, especially when Katniss is crying too. She knew, she knew deep down that Rankyn was vegan. It took her longer to accept it than his sexuality. But now, a vegan son is better than a dead son.

If only she could tell him.

11th- Swan Kuiper

It wasn't supposed to end like this. Her time in the arena was supposed to cure her, not ruin her even more! If it weren't for the 12 boy then-

She can't think like that. For pete's sake she's a victor of the highest regard. She has a family that she wants to get home to. She has to keep herself steady but in order to do that she needs to focus. Focus. Focus.

Her tribute is dying. That's what's happening in front of her. She relates to Swan. They both have many different people in their heads. They both have different people in their heads. Swan is a bit crazy and so is Swan.

Maybe Swan is a bit more crazy. Maybe it's Rain that's a bit more crazy.

She could always be putting up an act.

But so could Rain.

Isn't that the job of the mentor?

No, she needs to get off of that mentality. Rain needs to protect Swan but all the sponsor gifts that she can afford to send are not going to teat the rough extent of blunt force trauma. Swan has always been a frail child but the career academy was supposed to make her stronger. Supposed to.

Rain knows Sqan, she mentored her at least twice before becoming her official mentor. Goddamn that outlier. Goddamn District 12. Goddamn rebels.

It wasn't supposed to happen.

She watches with a petrified look of fear on her `face as her brother struggles to reach her. He was always the stronger of the two, Rain personally hated it, but strength is one of the greatest values in the Hunger Games. And his strengths prevails more than his sister's.

She sees the look in his eyes when Swan's cannon finally fires. Clearly, a maniac is reborn.

 **Day 8 end:**

Currently Alive:

Prestige Calloway, 17 years old, District One Male, kills; D6F and D11F

Androcles Cooper, 18 years old, District Two Male, kills; D3F, D7M, and D11M

Heron Kyuiper, 16 years old, District Four Male, kills; Whertz

Aeria Mite, 16 years old, District Five Female, kills; N/A

Roryd Sakon, 14 years old, District Six Male, kills; D8F

Abigail Barker, 18 years old, District Seven Female, kills; N/A

Eustace Stiver, 17 years old, District Nine Male, kills; D2F and D8M

Marcela Hanson, 18 years old, District Ten Female, kills; N/A

Harmon Everlark, 14 years old, District Twelve Male, kills; D4F

Lillian Perad, 15 years old, District Twelve Female, kills; D3M

 **Day 9:**

He's waiting to strike. Heron sits atop a kitchenette counter on a small portable stove, kept warm during the chilly air conditioned nights when others are laying low.

Harmon is on the move. He doesn't want to let bad memories of Rankyn's death drag him down. He's avoiding the hall. Or more accurately, the part of the studio apartment that cordons off the bathroom from the bedroom and kitchenette.

Aeria has climbed on the giant bed, and she's trying to find a stable place. Lucky for her the owner of the apartment is an idiot who leaves hard surfaces on the bed, making traction easy for her to find. Some books are larger than others, others smaller, and she finds a bag of chips hidden in one of them.

Eustace is moving to the bathroom. He's heard that tributes go to water. That's about all he knows, but he still needs to move. If he runs into the careers then he has to be ready. His muscles are being eaten at, and the food he's getting is dwindling.

Lillian and Roryd have made their way to the bedroom part of the house. They find 'doll sized' clothes for the two of them and change out of soiled garments for the day. IT's a small advantage but it's an advantage.

Marcela is resting. She's been resting for a long time. It doesn't look like it's going to stop.

Prestige and Androcles have also made their way to the bed, but have made their way to the underside of it. They find more valuable supplies.

Abigail Barker is on the nightstand. She isn't doing much.

A feast is announced for the next day, under the bed, where Prestige and Androcles lie in wait. Of the tributes, Abigail, Lillian, Harmon, Roryd, Eustace, and Heron make their way to the bed. Marcela and Aeria opt out.

 **Day 10:**

10th-Prestige Calloway

Dash is getting too old to cry. Too many critics in the capitol have called him out because of that. He doesn't care. His wife and kids love him, crybaby or not, and he's just tired of all this by this point. That's an accurate point. He loves the Hunger Games, but he's...he's kind of tired of the charade. He has one victorious tribute and he swears after this hunger games he'll quit.

It's not helping his heart in all honesty. Yeah he still looks good but he's not able to hold up as well as he used to against those young and strong kids in the academy. It's why he has faith in Prestige.

He's young, good looking, and has a sympathetic backstory. It's a perfect combination.

If there's one lesson Dash is kicking himself for not learning as well as he could have it's that what happens in the past does not dictate a person in the present to the extent others believes. Androcles and Prestige have just woken up, sweat dripping down their bare bodies, and they both seem to be aware of the feast battlefield being set up.

Prestige has just finished dressing up when he sees his rival. He turns to Androcles and tells him to move on, tells him not to battle the victor until a day or 2 has passed. Prestige walks up to the slightly unstable field hand, arm outstretched, and a look of determination on his face.

Eustace takes it. They shake boldly. They forwent the usual 9-1 allegiance based off of a mutual sense of respect. Eustace draws a short-sword, Prestige, a saber. The battle lasts between unstable jests and insane laughs.

The loser fallls to the grouhd, his conqueror much taller than he at that point.

Eustace plunges his saber into his opponent, trying his best to complete his half of their friendly handshake without the District 1 boy. It's the best Dash can ask for. He light heartedly pushes Curtis' head down. "Sorry old man," he says quietly.

Dash can only smile. He knows when he's been beat.

It doesn't make his tears any more comforting.

9th-Harmon Everlark

Katniss is watching her son through the games. He's had it a bit rough and he hopes to go through the feast in order to finish off his love's killer. Katniss is watching with a twitchy finger, it's always a twitchy finger, and she can't seem to stop any part of her body from shaking. She's not planning to lose a second child to the arena.

Harmon is facing the mouth of the open circle of supplies. Katniss knows that there's been a death in the vicinity of the feast so she's hoping against hope that her dear son isn't the next to die. Harmon is a good kid. He's an outgoing kid. But…

But peacemaking won't work in the arena. He bumps into the District 6 boy, and they back up awkwardly, Harmon keeps talking as he walks back. Katniss is petrified. It hurts watching her second child back into an ax. Abigail looks past her wounded opponent and pushes roryd down before grabbing a giant bag.

Harmon makes the choice to run away. He blindly stumbles into a cooler. It's...It's cold.

Katniss has heard from Alejandro that cold means that if a tribute dies they just fall asleep in the cold. She looks on the screen with tears in her eyes as her son dies.

8th-Heron Kyuiper

The pieces are in place. Marcel thinks he has a victor. It's another insane victor like District 4 is known for but he thinks that he really has a victor. Instability works. It's always worked for District 4.

He wants it, as selfishly as Marcel puts it. He's the hero of his home island, the hero of District 4, one of many that'll be honored with a new island in District 4. He's one of the most influential. He's met many people who want to be like him. Heron isn't that much younger than Marcel's youngest brother.

The career alliance isn't a thing by this point in the Hunger games. It's no surprise when Marcel's half-insane-but that doesn't make sense, when you're a smidgen insane then you're already insane. Yeah. Heron charges at Androcles.

To his credit he lasts in a ten minute fight and knocks over Androcles several times. It's the best battle that the arena has provided yet. He fends off Androcles' might time and time again and gets several great slashes along the front of the District 2 behemoth.

It's futile and Heron isn't the victor of this battle. He's knocked on his back and Androcles throws his sword time and time again into Heron's bloody chest. His cannon fires.

Marcel begins to think. It's about the time of the final eight interviews. Heron barely made it into the top third. Would his family be proud of him?

Truth be told, if Heron was his son, Marcel wouldn't be. But he's not his son, and Marcel has nothing but the highest sense of pride for him/ District 2 has always been the strongest District, and it doesn't look like it'll change.

7th- Marcela Hanson

The feast ends with three cannons firing. Lillian and Roryd make their way off to a different part of the bedroom section. They're out from under the bed and walking on the cold tile. The anthem is going to play in approximately an hour.

Most aware of the time are the mentors. Adam looks at his personal clock and notes the time as 6:45 PM. His tribute has been through a lot and he just spent the last of his funds on a pillow. It helps Marcela sleep for a long time. Marcela's always learned the value of a good sleep.

But good sleep can be hard to get in the arena, so she tries to sleep for as long as possible.

She's been sleeping for eight hours now. It's a long nap and Adam has no way of waking her up. Roryd and Lillian find themselves in front of the sleeping girl. She's just eighteen, a little younger than Adam's own daughter, and only slightly younger than Katie when Adam first proposed to her. Funny how these things work out.

Lillian gives Roryd a knife as he creeps over to Marcela. Marcela is a wicked trapper but with the pain in her leg she hasn't been able to set traps. He creeps over Marcela's exposed neck and rests the dagger on her neck. It's a long moment that Adam has to cry over his tribute's impending doom.

Roryd makes it quick. The knife goes through skin and punctures the windpipe. It's hell to watch as she gurgles to her death, staining ehr whilte pillow with iron red blood.

He cries as they leave. He's supposed to be a man and he can't cry.

But there are some things worth crying for.

 **Day 10 end:**

Currently Alive:

Androcles Cooper, 18 years old, District Two Male, kills; D3F, D4M, D7M, and D11M

Aeria Mite, 16 years old, District Five Female, kills; N/A

Roryd Sakon, 14 years old, District Six Male, kills; D8F, D10F

Abigail Barker, 18 years old, District Seven Female, kills; D12M

Eustace Stiver, 17 years old, District Nine Male, kills; D1M, D2F and D8M

Lillian Perad, 15 years old, District Twelve Female, kills; D3M

 **Day 11:**

The Odds are in all the tributes' favor. Aeria and Abigail have yet to make a kill but are now on the prowl. Androcles is close to becoming the first career victor of the quarter quell. The last two tributes will be alive, making the last alliance, Roryd and Lillian, a dangerous pair.

 _Odds:_

Androcles: 4-1

Eustace: 9-1

Roryd: 14-1

Lillian: 16-1

Abigail: 24-1

Aeria: 36-1

 **Day 12:**

6th-Aeria Mite

Aeria fell down from the bed the day before. She's alive but she's limping along. It's hard to send her medicine but her mentor, Emmeline, is working fervently to let her child live. She's already a mother. AEria and her ex boyfriend are caring for a little girl.

Emmeline understands. She was pregnant in the arena, the only pregnant victor that has ever came out and that will ever come out. It's important that Aeria is alive for her 2 month old daughter by the end of it all.

She's scrambling with Hellion, Jumper, Vedits, and Alejandro to get their funds. Any pregnant woman on the street, any teenage mom, anyone who is a parent. Hellion's transferred as much of his funds as he could have to Aeria's account.

Emmeline is in the middle of a heated phone call when her tribute screams from the large screen. A massive dust storm triggered by the vacuum has forced some of the tributes together, and Roryd blindly cuts through the swirling strands of dust in the air, and his blade cuts through Aeria's skin.

It's painful. The dust flies into her exposed flesh and her blood and she's screaming as he tries to wrestle the blade out of Aeria's skin.

It gets to a point where Emmeline can't tell if it's her screaming or Aeria screaming. The voice at the end of the line hangs up.

 **End of Day 12:**

Currently Alive:

Androcles Cooper, 18 years old, District Two Male, kills; D3F, D4M, D7M, and D11M

Roryd Sakon, 14 years old, District Six Male, kills; D5F, D8F, D10F

Abigail Barker, 18 years old, District Seven Female, kills; N/A

Eustace Stiver, 17 years old, District Nine Male, kills; D1M, D2F and D8M

Lillian Perad, 15 years old, District Twelve Female, kills; D3M

 _Odds:_

Androcles: 4-1

Eustace: 9-1

Roryd: 10-1

Lillian: 16-1

Abigail: 24-1

 **Day 13:**

It's the end of peace. The dust storm was just the beginning. The last five tributes, Abigail, Lillian, Roryd, Eustace, and Androcles are forced to the center of the arena, on a giant welcome mat thanks to the advent of others.

Theyre granted one day of rest. All sponsor funds are dried up. The final five battle will begin the next day.

 **Day 14:**

5th-Abigail Barker

She swore that she wasn't going to kill. She swore to use her axe, and only her axe, on things that prevent the most amount of people from remaining alive. She swore that her hatchet would only be used in emergencies that wouldn't require her selfishness.

That's what she is. A Selfish girl by nature. She's hopped in and out of the peacekeeper holding cells just because her 'best' friend at the time always had more than her. Her parents disowned her and focused on her five other siblings, the ones who weren't corrupted by Abigail's twisted world view.

Flora looks at the final battle with increased hesitance. Flora knows what Abigail is, a serial crusher. There's a term that someone from District 3, that one girl's husband maybe, he told her that the term is Yandere. It's a deadly term. She doesn't know the connotations.

But she's seen the scars. On Abigail's skin are the names of the thirteen men and two women she's claimed to have loved. The freshest name, Flora, still bleeds, especially in the stress of the arena.

Abigail is the first to rise on the fateful ending day. She's also the first to fall. Victim to her former semi-career tentative ally.

4th-Eustace Striver

He swears he isn't insane. He swears that it's everyone around him. He told Curtis that it was everyone else around him, everyone else he couldn't hear, he couldn't see, they couldn't think.

Curtis thinks that it's a lot of baloney. But he isn't a psychology major so he can't be sure as any other person would be. Man it sucked taking care of psychopaths. He has no idea how the true careers can handle it.

Curtis looks again, he has an unfortunate habit of gluing his eyes to the screen when the big picture is right in front of him. Eustace drops his former ally to the ground and looks at his opponent. Curtis couldn't be more nervous. This the first time a tribute of his made it this far. Eustace jsut has to out last two of the other tributes to be in the homestretch.

Why Eustace targeted Androcles at that very moment he could never even know.

Curtis has to watch Eustace's final battle. Yeah the boy he's good but he's nowhere near the level of the career, Eustace himself noted that. But maybe it was the wear and tears of the day that caused Eustace to think he could take him on?

IT must have been.

It must have been.

No one can udnerstand what tribtues go through in the arena, not even former victors. It's painful to watch tributes they care for so much wither away to husks of their sanity.

At least it's quick.

3rd- Androcles Cooper

Striker's been through this song and dance many times before. He's always been getting closer and closer but never too close. It's almost as though his mentorship is a discontinuous function and first place always remains out of reach. Androcles would make a great victor. He's District 2 born, bred, and bullheartedly strong. He's loyal, good looking, and he gets the job done.

It's true that striker and Androcles aren't the best at public speaking but hey, it's easy for the two of them to connect. Striker watches as his tribute brushes away the District 12 girl with his broadword, just the flat, not enough to kill her. He pushes forward and makes a move to stab the District 6 boy, the bigger threat, in the middle of his chest.

He just has to wait for the cannon to fire and he's one of two victors for the fourth quarter quell. Strriker just has to wait for the cannon to fire. Striker just has to wait for the cannon to-

It doesn't come. And before that happens the medium sized District 12 girl finds a chain to wrap around Androcles' muscular neck. She wraps her legs around the District 2 boy as she tightens her grip as much as she can. Androcles falls forward, blood bleeding from his nose, cut from the rough and coarse carpet of the welcome mat.

A cannon fires. It's not Roryd's.

1st-Lillian Perad

He cant believe it. He can't believe it. HE CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

No one said it could be done. Everyone doubted the plausibility of a District winning two quarter quells. But it happened. And it happened with District 12 of all places. Ketrin can barely hear his thoughts as he barrels into the District 12 apartment, screeching and hooting and hollering. He busts open the finest champagne, aged from the last victory, pours a glass for Katniss, pours a glass for Lillian whenever she may come.

He's pounding on Katniss' door a lot less loudly. She smiles for him but her son just died in the same games Lillian came out alive in. Funny how life works. She agrees to have a drink with hiim as the commentors go crazy after the 'upset'.

Thirty percent of the fans today beleived that Roryd and Lilian would make it alive. Now he just has so much to say about Lillian's victory, he has so much to tell his wife, so much to tell his little baby twins, his little baby dog, his little babies at home.

The celebration is short lived when a platoon of peacekeepers march in, carrying 'indisputable evidence' that Katniss is a known collaborator. She freezes for a moment before bashing the champagne bottle. Ketrin wants to help but he's forced into another room.

Sounds of a struggle go through the Capitol's walls. AT least 2 have died by Katniss' hand before she maeks a run for it. He's hopeful that she makes it out, but then he hears the gunshot.

The news reports already are commenting on the fact that 65% of those polled are happy at District 12's win. They're juxtaposed against reports of Katniss Everdeen's untimely death after fighting a squadron of peacekeepers.

Fishy.

1st-Roryd Sakon

He doesn't know what to do now. Ketrin is hooting and hollering his flat ass off upstairs and he's...well he's alone. But finally. Finally Levora brought someone out. It's been...It's been so long since he's had someone to talk to in victor's village.

Someone sympathetic to his cause too. Someone who has a sister who is actually his brother...Levora can't wrap his head around it. He runs down the aisles, screeching like a banshee, knocking over avoxes and trays of food. He doesn't need morphling anymore. He doesn't need it! HE DOESN'T NEED IT NOR WILL HE EVER!

"CHARLOTTE!" Levora cries in his voice all too high for his liking. He finds her fixing her dress in front of the punch bowl and she mirrors the smile on her face.

The rest of the night is a round of congratulations for the normally stoic and frail victor. The next day he gets word of Roryd and Lillian's hovercraft landing. He bumps into Ketrin, who purses his lips and walks into the doctor's office with the two of them.

Roryd is the worse case, stabbed through the center of his chest, it'll take an hour with capitol technology and his growth seems to have stopped at 5'7". Lillian's scars highlight her battles so they'll keep that. "You know Levora, your tribute has some nice abs," the overseeing doctor says with a smirk. "How old is he?"

"Fourteen," Levora chimes in defensively.

"Pity," the doctor says absentmindedly. With a swish of her dress she turns to Ketrin and asks the same question. Upon receiving the same response from him she scoffs. "I'm not a monster like the old president. I will wait my turn."

Levora lets out a shiver as the doctor leaves. He worries a bit, maybe the testosterone, what little he has, is running out or something. He'll get off of morphling.

The five year plan is in place for him and Charlotte anyways. He just hopes that Roryd won't be alone in the end.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps Here**

 **This was 100% the most tedious chapter that I've had to write but this was a format that I've been wanting to do for such a long time. I took inspiration from Tracelynn's oneshot about their mentors. I also have had fun writing this, as we got to go into depths of the Hunger Games that I don't think we'll ever reach in this series for a while, at least compared to Tremble and other future SYOT's. Let me know what worked for this chapter, what sat well, what sat incorrectly, and what was also just something you noticed.**

 **Were there any stand out characters here?**

 **I hope the quarter quell stood out, since next chapter we'll be jumping about 60 years to the end of the Hunger Games.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**

 **P.S. The story content alone is (dated meme) OVER 9000!**


	102. Fourth Quarter Quell part 2

_**Fourth Quarter Quell:**_

 _ **Victor #102:**_

 _ **Name: Roryd Sakon**_

 _ **Age During Games: 14**_

 _ **District: 6**_

 _ **Games: Fourth Quarter Quell**_

 _ **Death: 160, Proportion Games**_

 _ **12:00 A.M, The first day of the year of the 160th Hunger Games**_

Panem is collapsing. That much is apparent. I write in my journal as the sounds of riots outside my very own home permeate through the walls. I'm midway through the last page of the journal when I jump at the sound of someone at my door. It's just my daughter. She's the spitting image of my late wife, standing at my height, and carrying herself well with her backpack over her shoulder.

"You need to go," I say quietly. She tenses and nods quietly. "Take the passage with Pastoria. You'll make it to lake under him. Follow Ursa Major. You have your guide books, and my grandchildren."

"I'll...I'll wait for you. The kids will go ahead."

"No," I say in a firm tone. "I'm seventy-four years old and I refuse to let you drag along a piece of dead weight, especially since I've told the capitol to come over and take out the rebellious mayor."

"That's suicide dad!"  
"Panem can't live like this. Our contact in the capitol is actually under control. I need to die in order for you, for Timber, for Neal, for all of you all to live well. You have your maps. Just...please go my dear. The drones are about to approach."

She gulps and closes her eyes before shutting the door. I hear her run down the hall in an effort to catch up. I close my journal and tuck it in that secret cubbyhole that absolutely no one will know about. If I do die in the upcoming weeks then those who want to see my story can always scour this old house.

I sit at the mayor's chair and wait. I adjust my nameplate and look forward. A mayor has to look his best for his people, rebel or loyalist, victor or citizen.

 _ **6:00 A.M, The first day of the year of the 160th Hunger Games**_

They've stripped me out of my finest suit and put me in rags. They've taken my blood and subjected me to a physical. The doctor says that I'm in great shape for a 74 year old. I attribute that to my hair not going grey. I am thrown into a cell with other District 6 dissidents. They scoff at having the now former mayor in the cell, muttering some bullshit about us all being on the same tier of regard now that I'm imprisoned.

An asshole tries to start a fight with nothing but his bare, tattoooed knuckles. He's half a foot taller than I am and at least three times my size. He goes down surprisingly easy. Every victor has fought each other at least once to stay in fighting (or fecundity) shape. Crazy enough.

I retreat to a bunkbed, the highest one, the one closest to the cell door, and stare at the wall. It's all I do for the rest of the day. Some food is dropped through the bars of the cell. I can't help but notice that my cellmates are much like the tribtues I used to mentor all those years ago. Was it really that long ago?

I really can't tell. The prisoners decide to give me a granola bar, a swig of apple juice, and several pieces of fruit for the day. I bite out of the banana. It's about all that i eat for the day.

 _ **8:45 P.M., The Fifth day of the year of the 160th Hunger Games**_

All of my cell mates have been transferred out. I'm alone in the cell with nothing to do but stare at the wall, count at the microscopic holes in the bricks, count all the bricks, count it all and all again and again. It's been...Five to seven days since my arrest. I trust that Trilond and her party have made it onto one of the box cars. She should have joined up by some other refugees at this point.

Several of the outlying railroads are destroyed by some of the capitol's high tech drones. In District 5 the powerplants are going into overdrive. One of them has been blown up by rebels and another one is being overworked. In District 4 more ships are going out that refuse to bear the flag of panem. District 4's navy is stronger than Panem's, pitifully enough. District 7 is melting its axes for foundries. Even District 2 is beginning to frature. Only 80% of the District has devoted loyalty.

Death tolls are rising into the thousands with hundreds more being added every day.

Thank you exposition from the television.

 _ **7:30 A.M. The Eighth Day of the year of the 160th Hunger Games**_

I finally am able to step out of my cell. Even after more than a week of being bedridden I'm still able to walk. Victors last long for a reason. By this point it's second nature. I'm called into an office by several peacekeepers. They refuse to give me room to swing my arms even after I accidentally elbow both of them on either side of me.

The room they put me into bears striking similarity to the goodbye room from all those years ago. The flashback this time is of me, talkign to my sister as she huddled up against the sink, trying to wash away at her eyes taht still carried some kind of masculine glow. My parents were in teh corner, focused on me but not wanting to step an inch further to my hormonal sister. The drugs we got her could only work for so long.

The flashback ends and reality snaps back in front of me. "Good evening Mr. Sakon," the woman, President Corrina Sleet, tells me from her elevated rolling chair. "I trust that your accommodations as mayor of District 6 were all well kept."

"If you ask me right now might not be the best time to stay at the mayor's quarters," I snap back, being pushed into a smaller chair against my will. Sleet is much shorter than I but with how she's sitting she seems to elevate at least 2 or 3 feet above me.

"Well now that it has been associated with the rebellious blood of one of our victors I doubnt that many of our hardest loyalists would be willing to stay there under any circumstance." She turns in her chair and rolls over to one of her many bookshelves, rifling through many of her opened folders just bursting at the seam, and pulls out a file. "Miss Alliana Sakon, the former Mister Sakon, was found dead three days ago. Her corpse was desecrated by rebels."

"They must not have gotten a memo that the mayor's family was not to be disturbed."

"Or they may not have been rebels entirely aligned with your particular radical rebellion," she fires back. "In the outskirts of town we have reports of at least five dozen dead in an abandoned office building. The victims were as young as five and as old as 47. A young group of people."

She goes off on a tangent and my ears are bombarded with reports of graves desecrated, injuries sustained, children dying, men fighting, and women mourning. District 6's town center seems to be in the middle of disarray and looting has reached a peak that has never been seen before. The peacekeeper population in District 6 now surpasses the population of District 12. One in five families are under strict monitorization. "Tell me, Mister Sakon," President Sleet tells me. "Is this what you wanted to happen?"

"This is only happening because of the capitol's oppression," I say bitterly.

She pauses, the corners of her lips curling into a dark and twisted smile, before her ice cold laugh permeates through the tense air. "I know I elected you for a reason, and it was because you always looked out for yoru people, but to think that you would-"

"Tell the truth?"

"There is a reason why we are oppressing you," Sleet comments. "Very well then. I wouldn't expect District folk to understand the complexities of the capitol, even after 30 years of service. I know we are of the same ilk, and for that I wish to keep you alive. But the problem is that we are of the same ilk."

There's a silence that becomes maddenning as she looks at me. She puts her hand under the desk and on command three peacekeepers swarm me. "What is the task that we are assigned to do Madame President?" a woman asks through a voice distorter.

"Take him to the execution chamber for three days. I must talk to him then."

I'm grabbed strongly by the two other peacekeepers and dragged out the room. I lock eyes with the rpesident and she tips her head in a solemn nod.

 _ **12:00 P.M. The Eleventh Day of the year of the 160th Hunger Games**_

Now I know what death entails. I've been through this charade one too many times in my life and to think that I am in this again, is actually pretty funny. I don't laugh though. I haven't found much energy in myself to laugh or make any vocal noises from any regard. It's an odd thing. My mind begins raacing. I see Nalissa, shouting her declarations of love across this tiny ten feet by ten feet cell. I see Trilond's often understated smile dance across the room as she works with her husband, Gertie, and raises her kids. I've only had one child but I added to the world.

Yet i took away from the world. I see my longtime best friend and one time love, fellow victor of the foruth quarter quell in front of me and for a moment I'm that young again. Just 14 and trying to survive that giant house. Her son...my son….

It's complicated. I'm the foster father for three different women in Panem. Nalissa and I have always disagreed on that aspect but I still love her. She understands taht Lillian waasn't able to bear with her own husband. I hope her kids are aliright. Quell victors don't live as long as regular hunger games victors.

My thoughts are proven true when the door to my cell opens up for the last time. In the middle of a squadron of five peacekeepers is President Corinna Sleet. I sit up and the two peacekeepers on the ends grab me by the arms. In silence I am marched to a separate execution chamber, one with a drain in four corners of the cell and a singular drain in the center. The smell of Iron still punctuates the room.

Sleet makes a direction to a camera. She tells me to face away from there. I can see guilt in her eyes as she loads her pistol. The camera turns on and she widely gesticulates to the audience at home. "Dear viewers of Panem. I understand that times have been tumultuous at best and that living your day with the constant threat of death is not a day best spent. This year we will crack down on death. Starting from the top and working our way down."

She turns to me with the muffler pointed at my forehead. "You may recognize the head of dear victor Roryd Sakon. This former mayor has been the leader of all of District 6's rebellious forces. Today the rebels will get a message and the Hunger Games shall continue for the year. More details shall come."

I stare down the barrel of the pistol. It's been a long time since I've feared death. I don't fear the bullet. The sound of the gun firing off ricochets in this very small chamber. I feel the bullet go through my skull and land somewhere on the other side. Like I've said, I've stopped fearing death. My job as Mayor and Rebel and Victor is long done. All there is to do is embrace the light.

* * *

 **Hey Guys, Hopps here**

 **I suppose that it is quite a bit odd that I was able to update so quickly. Truth be told was that I was working on Roryd and Lillian's chapter a bit simultaneously. Roryd just came more naturally than Lillian but I wanted it to be in chronological order in this case. I hope that you all got to see Roryd's true character shown in this chapter. Thank you guys for supporting me through this, hiatus and breaks and all.**

 **Hopping out**

 **Hopps**


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